


Compilation of Eliot Spencer Imagines

by Lets_Go_Steal_A_Fanfic



Category: Leverage
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 46,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lets_Go_Steal_A_Fanfic/pseuds/Lets_Go_Steal_A_Fanfic
Summary: I started an Imagine blog on Tumblr a while back, and people on there said I should start one of these. I hope they were right.





	1. Coffee Shop AU

Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer

\--

“Alex!” Goddamnit. Alec Hardison closed his laptop and made his way to the end of the line. Every time. No barista ever got his name right. This one was cute, though, so maybe he’d let it slide. 

“Venti, non-fat, no foam, 6 pumps, extra hot, chai tea latte.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Alec took the cup. The barista looked more muscular than most. Shaking his head, he headed back to his laptop and reopened it. 

“Back to work.”

The coffee shop down the road from Alec’s apartment had free wifi, good coffee, was open 24/7, and had his orange soda. So instead of paying for wifi at home, he trekked down to the shop every morning to start working. He was a webpage designer, and had recently gained traction. He was working on seven projects all due very soon, so he had started staying later an later every day. 

“Venti, non-fat, no foam, 6 pumps, extra hot, chai tea latte for Alex.” There he was again. The same barista. Alec shook his head and grabbed the latte.

This continued for at least a month. Alec just…got used to it. It got to the point where he would walk in, sit down, and that muscled barista would call out his order for “Alex”. Alec never corrected him.

“Venti, non-fat, no foam, 6 pumps, extra hot, chai tea latte for Alex.” Same routine: hear Alex, walk up shaking head, grab latte, sit back down. But this time the barista’s had was still on the cup when Alec went to grab it.

“Why do you always shake your head when you come up here. Every day you do that.” He was taken aback. He hadn’t realized anyone noticed. 

“Uhh… it’s just that my name is ‘Ale-C’ with a ‘C’ not an ‘X’.” 

“Damnit, I’m sorry, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Alec shrugged.

“Everyone gets it wrong, I just didn’t really care.” The barista looked confused for a second then went back to taking orders and making coffee, and Alec went back to designing a webpage. 

Two hours later someone sat down on the other side of the table from him. He glanced up, his eyes adjusting to the less-pixilated world. It was the barista. 

“Eliot Spencer.” He held out his hand. Alec took it. 

“Alec Hardison. Strong grip.” He added. 

“Ex-military.”  
“Barista?”

“Long story, but the gist is – vet salaries don’t pay what they used to.” Alec nodded and smiled. Getting to know Eliot Spencer might just be worth the months of being called by the wrong name.


	2. Eliot Makes Parker and Hardison Eat Real Food

Eliot Spencer/Alec Hardison/Parker

\--

Nate and Sophie were out on a date, so Eliot, Hardison, and Parker were just hanging out around the restaurant. Hardison was working making the coms better; Parker was scaling the ceiling – again. Eliot was fixing dinner.

“What do you guys want?” 

“I’m good – I got my gummy frogs, I got my orange soda.” Hardison said absentmindedly. “And Parker ate like a pound of chocolate, which is why she’s bouncing off the walls – literally.” He chuckled at that and glanced up at his girlfriend.

“You two need to eat some actual food – not just gummy frogs and orange soda.” Eliot was practically outraged. They ran a food establishment and yet neither of them had had a decent meal in what felt like forever.

“Don’t forget the chocolate!” Parker squealed as she sailed back down from the ceiling. Eliot rolled his eyes, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work. He began cutting the chicken and seasoning it. Thirty minutes later, three plates of steaming cashew chicken stir-fry were sitting on the counter. Eliot stood on the other side of the counter facing Hardison. He grabbed one of the plates and walked it over to him, placing it next to his computer, and snatching the bag of half-eaten gummy frogs from the other side of his computer and stalked off. 

“Hey! My frogs!” 

“First, you eat real food, then you get the damn frogs back.”   

Hardison grumbled but picked up the fork and took a bite. 

“Wheeeeeeeeee!” It was the fourth time in 40 minutes that Parker had sailed down from the ceiling and into the couch. Quick as lighting Eliot unstrapped the harness and set down a plate for her. Parker pouted. 

“Elliooooot!” She whined. 

He stared down at her. “Eat.” He pointed at the plate. Parker grumbled but she grabbed the fork and took a bite. 

“Woah.” 

“Wow.” 

It wasn’t a secret that Eliot could cook – and could cook well, but neither Parker nor Hardison was ready for what was sitting on their forks. 

Eliot was eating at the counter, his back to Parker and Hardison. Parker shoveled the steaming hot food into her mouth. “Eliot this is soooo good!” Parker said. Eliot smirked. 

“Seriously Eliot, this is amazing.” Hardison said, his eyes wide. 

Eliot just smirked. Now maybe they won’t kill themselves through malnutrition.


	3. "If you go over to one more cat or dog I'm leaving you behind"

Eliot Spencer/Alec Hardison/Parker

\--

“Parker I swear to God!” Eliot and Hardison had stopped as Parker bounded back behind them to go and pet a cat. “If you go over to one more cat or dog and try to befriend them I’m leaving you behind. I’ve got to get back to the restaurant at some point.” They were taking a walk, just the three of them. It was supposed to be ten minutes – tops. Parker had promised. Eliot was supposed to be teaching the cooks a new dish, and Hardison preferred his computer to downtown Portland. But Parker had to go for a short walk every day for physical thereapy after she tore her ACL, and Hardison was not one who could say no to spending time with her. Eliot would never admit it, but he enjoyed walking with the two, as well. 

Parker walked back, wheezing. “He – He ran – away.” She said, he labored breathing made it harder to talk. 

“Hon, I am not strong enough to carry you back myself, so I suggest stop running after cats and dogs. We’ll go play with some shelter dogs tomorrow if it makes you feel better.” Parker’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” Alec said with a smirk. She pushed her way between her two boys and linked arms with them. Eliot was much more reluctant than Alec, but he did it anyway, just to appease her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was from a prompt on a fan fiction prompt post that I thought was cute


	4. Playing Spin the Bottle

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

“C’mon guys, it’ll be fuuuuunn!” Parker whined. Nate and Sophie were having a ‘Date Night’ so it was just you, Parker, Hardison, and Eliot at the restaurant. 

“Why do you want to play so bad?” Hardison asked. Eliot rolled his eyes. Parker was definitely more of a lightweight than all three of you, so she was further gone after one beer. “Babe, you’re drunk.”

“No,  _you’re_  drunk.” She said, pointing her finger into Hardison’s chest. “C’mon, please?” She gave Hardison a pleading look and he caved. 

“Fine. We’ll use your bottle, since it’s empty.” Elliot sighed. You raised your eyebrows. Were you really about to play ‘Spin the Bottle’ with a drunk Parker, a buzzed Hardison, and a not-even-phased Eliot? You were not drunk enough for this yet. 

“Can I have at least one more beer before we start?” You asked. It would be a whole lot easier to do regrettable things like kissing your friends if you were completely wasted, but that wasn’t going to happen in time. Eliot smirked and grabbed another beer for you and himself as everyone sat down on the floor. Hardison put the bottle on its side and with a flick of his wrist, the bottle spun. It landed on Parker, and he leaned over and gave her a peck. She giggled. Now it was Eliot’s turn. You quickly took a big swig of your beer, and almost audibly sighed when it landed on Parker, again. She giggled, and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then it was Parker’s turn. She almost couldn’t grab the bottle she was so inebriated, but she got it and spun it. It landed on Hardison. She gave him a hard kiss that he was  _not_  expecting before fall backwards into her sitting position again. You took a huge swig of your beer. If you had only done a shot or something you could be calmer. But you hadn’t so you took the bottle in your hand and spun. You watched it and it was only then that you realized just  _how_  drunk you really were. The world spun with the bottle and it landed on Eliot. You felt a blush creep up your neck, and you saw a smirk flash across his face.

“Oooooooooh.” Parker said, giggling and almost falling over. Eliot sat up and leaned towards you. You leaned towards him. And for a second, nothing happened, you were both just leaning towards each other, then the alcohol kicked in and you slipped forward, your lips crashing with his. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him smiling as his soft lips cradled yours. You knew you were blushing like crazy now, but there was nothing to stop it. It felt like you were kissing for hours before Eliot leaned ever so slightly back, and you pulled away. Parker was still on the floor, giggling. Hardison was rolling his eyes, getting up to help her back up. For a first kiss, it wasn’t half bad. 

You played a couple more rounds, all of you getting steadily more and more drunk, and eventually, you had kissed everyone in the circle. Parker was right. It was fun. Eventually you all got tired, and Eliot helped you onto the couch before collapsing onto it as well. You felt the cushions sink slightly as what must have been Parker and Hardison lay down on the other side. You fell asleep content, in the strong arms of Eliot Spencer, enjoying your last few seconds of consciousness, knowing full well that your hangover in the morning was going to be killer.


	5. Eliot gives a private gift after the Lonely Hearts Job

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

“Aw Nate, you really are a sweetheart,” Sophie was admiring her roses, while Nate looked over at Hardison.

“What is it?” Parker asked, inspecting the plant.

“Venus…flytrap, it eats bugs, babe.” Hardison was looking back at Nate. Both men were staring at one another, confused. Then, as if they had been talking telepathically, their eyes went to Eliot. He just raised his glass and smirked. You chuckled and downed the rest of your drink. Grabbing your coat off the back of your chair, you bumped your shoulder into Eliot. “You made it too easy for them,” You whispered, knowing full well that Eliot had been planning to buy them flowers for months. Nate and Hardison weren’t exactly known for their romantic prowess.

“Hey,” Eliot began, but you were already out the door. 

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was cold; mid February was always a bitch in the Northeast. The sidewalks, despite being salted, were practically a sheet of ice. Your car wasn’t far, so you decided to just keep your jacket in your hands. You had only walked a couple of yards when your feet were suddenly out from under you. Despite being careful, you had slipped on the ice. Your only thought was that it was going to hurt. Then you suddenly just – weren’t falling. 

“Woah, you gotta be more careful there, darlin’.” A deep southern drawl whispered into your ear. 

“Following me home?” You asked, smirking, as he helped you to your feet. 

Eliot rubbed his neck, “Actually, you forgot somethin back at the bar.” A blush was starting to creep up his neck, and you cocked an eyebrow in silent confusion. It was only for a second, though, as you began to search your coat. You had your wallet, your phone, your keys…what had you forgotten? 

Eliot gently grabbed your hands, stopping you from searching. You looked up at him, furrowing your brow. He brought you closer, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You forgot  _your_  present.” Eliot’s lips brushed yours as he spoke, teasing you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Closing your eyes, you stood up on your toes, crashing your lips into his. His lips were soft and warm. You felt a smile on his lips, making you smile as well. He pulled you closer, your arms wrapped around his neck. You never wanted it to end, but eventually Eliot pulled back slightly. You were both breathing heavily. Your eyes flickered down, and then back up, meeting his glassy green eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkled softly, making you laugh and bite your lip. You were no longer even slightly chilly. An idea suddenly popped into your head. Smiling mischievously, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind you. Now it was his turn to look confused. “Where are we going?” You laughed as he caught up with you, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Well, while I appreciate the present,” You paused, getting again onto your toes to whisper in his ear, “You haven’t gotten yours yet.” Eliot’s eyes grew wide and real smile crept onto his face. Removing his fingers from yours, he slipped his arm around your waist, leading you down a different road. 

“My place is closer.” He whispered in your ear.


	6. Lazy Day

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Your eyes were still closed, but Eliot could always tell when you were awake or not. 

“’Mornin’.” You grumbled. You were not a morning person. You felt Eliot kiss your forehead, then his weight lift off of the bed. You cracked your eyes open and saw the soft light of the morning sun shone through the blinds. Stretching, you got up and walked to the kitchen. You yawned and got out your mug, filling it with coffee. 

“Glad you could join me.” Eliot whispered in your ear as his arms snaked around your waist. You leaned your head back and he kissed your neck. “Made us some breakfast.” You sighed unhappily as he peeled himself away from you to make sure the omelets didn’t burn. You sat yourself at the other side of the island so you could watch Eliot cook. You marveled at him. How could a man kill someone with an entrée and yet cook so delicately? You were rushed out of your rhetorical thinking by Eliot handing you a plate and sitting down next to you with his own. It was delicious, and he had situated the omelet and the bacon so that it looked like a smiley face and you giggled. He smiled when you bumped against him. 

“I’m extremely jealous of your cooking skills, babe.” You said once you had scarfed down your meal. “I don’t know why you don’t just make people eat your food instead of hitting them. It’s killer.” You said, looking up at him with a huge smile on your face. He rolled his eyes.

“That was bad.” He said, but you saw a smile creep onto his face when he didn’t think you were looking. “What do you want to do today?” He asked, once you had showered and dressed. Nate had given you all the week off, the last job had been hard on all of you. 

“Honestly?” You asked, looking up at him. He pulled you close. 

“It’s preferred,”

“I just want to stay in.” You let out a breath. It had been both a physically and emotionally exhausting job and you hadn’t yet recovered. You felt Eliot smile as he kissed the top of your head. 

“I know just the thing.” You were expecting to go somewhere with Eliot today, seeing as it was sunny and nice, but you were glad he was ok with just staying in, and you quickly changed back out of your jeans and tank top into one of Eliot’s shirts that was definitely way too big for you. He was still in sweats and an old T-shirt; he must have known you’d want to stay in. 

You walked out of the bedroom to find Eliot fiddling with the TV. He had finally plugged the DVD player in once you had crossed the room to reach him. He held up a bunch of DVD cases. 

“Which season do you want to start on?” When you looked closer you saw he had actually bought the first seven season of Criminal Minds on DVD. A smile crept onto your face, and you chose the first season, obviously. Eliot hadn’t seen the show and what better way then to start at the beginning? He popped the DVD into the player, grabbed the remote, then tossed both onto the couch before walking over to the hallway closet. He grabbed a giant blanket and returned to the couch, tossing it over both of you. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head on his chest as he stretched his arm around you. He hit play, and you both began to watch. 

* * *

“That was crazy.” He said, as the fourth episode came to a close. He hit pause and you groaned.   
“We haven’t even gotten to my favorite episode yet. You looked up at him, your head still laying comfortably on his chest. He leaned down and kissed you. 

“I’m not going to let you fall into your crazy eating habits again. It’s lunch time.” Eliot knew that, left to your own devices, you wouldn’t eat unless you absolutely had to. It wasn’t your fault, you just got distracted. You sighed, and moved so he could get up. You wrapped the blanket around you like a cape and followed him back into the kitchen several minutes later. He was already cooking up something delicious, and it was your turn to wrap your blanket-clad arms around him. 

“Babe I don’t want to burn you.” He said as he gently removed your arms from his middle. You huffed then went back to the seat you had occupied at breakfast, and again, watched as he created something out of nothing, like a magic trick, but tastier. You repeated the same ritual you had at breakfast, with one minor difference. Once you were done, you headed back to the couch, but before you could take one step, Eliot had picked you up, bridal style and carried you there. You were giggling, and he kissed your nose. He laid you back down on the couch, then snuggled up with you, and pressed play. 

* * *

You must have fallen asleep because you suddenly felt a hand on your arm shaking you.

“Fell asleep?” He asked, knowing full well what the answer was. 

“What time is it?” You asked, sitting up. Eliot had paused the TV, and removed his arm from around your waist to let you sit up. 

“It’s around 9.” He answered. As if on cue, your stomach growled, and you blushed. He chuckled and you once again, followed the same path as you had for breakfast and lunch. Eliot cooked just enough for both of you. He didn’t like to reheat food. You were still really tired, despite having taken a nap, and you almost fell asleep at the counter. Once you were done, Eliot took your dishes, put them in the sink with the other dishes from the day, and then came back. You held your arms out for a hug and he gladly gave you one. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you into the bedroom. He carefully laid you down, and you immediately got under the covers. He went around to his side of the bed and followed suit. Under the covers he quickly found you and curled his arm around your middle, pulling you into him. You found his hand and wrapped yours in his.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” You heard him in the darkness.

“’Night babe.” You whispered back. You were almost asleep when you felt his lips in your hair and heard him whisper, “I love you.” You felt butterflies in your stomach every time he said it. You were too tired to say anything, but in your head, you thought  _I love you, too._


	7. Drunk!Nate ruins everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of another imagine thing I did, I'll add the link when I post it, so sorry in advance if you've just stumbled upon this and I haven't gotten to it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Suicidal thoughts mention, abusive relationship description

Eliot/Reader

\--

You slammed the door behind you and then you were suddenly struck with an immense amount of exhaustion. You moved to the right of the door and pressed your back against the wall, sliding down it until your head was between your knees. Tears began to slide down your face and you began to cry. You heard the door open, but you didn’t care enough to lift your head and see who had come out. You could sense whoever had was not expecting to find you crumpled up on the floor, crying your eyes out. You heard the door shut again, softer this time, and you felt someone sit down next to you. You felt their hand begin to rub your back and you leaned into them. Immediately you knew it was Eliot, no one else had such distinctive cologne. He wrapped his arm around you in an attempted hug. It might have been hours that you sat like that, or it could have been minutes. Either way, you eventually regained your composure and instantly regretted your outburst. Now you were sure your eyes were red, and your makeup was probably smeared across your face. You leaned your forehead against your knees in silent, defeated frustration. Eliot gently lifted your face with his thumb at your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“What did he do to you.” He said it calmly, but you knew could easily tell that it was a thinly veiled threat. Eliot of all people knew that Nate could get pretty messed up when it came to him drinking. You swallowed, trying to decide if you should tell him or not, deciding that it was better to come clean than to continue hiding. 

“He just…triggered something last night. He was yelling about how everything was my fault and that I couldn’t do anything right…it just took me back to a…shitty time.” At every pause, Eliot’s brow furrowed, as if he understood that you were leaving some things out. “Darlin, what happened.” It wasn’t a question that you had a choice in answering. It was a demand. You took a breath.

“You know that guy I was dating like two months ago?” Your voice was quiet, tired, and you were staring at the opposite wall as if it were a teleprompter, feeding you lines. 

“Yeah.” Eliot joined you in staring at the invisible teleprompter.

“He…” You paused again, internally fighting with yourself over whether you should tell him. “He…hit…me.” Your voice got more and more quiet with every word. You felt Eliot tense beside you. “I lied when I said I fell down the stairs, and that I slipped on the ice.” The words just tumbled out. You had no control over what you were saying. It had been two months of torturing yourself for staying with him for two years. For two months you felt like you were 16 again, wondering how you could continue to go on if you were so stupid to stay with him, and now the floodgates had been opened and nothing was stopping you from telling Eliot everything.  
“It started just a couple of months after we started dating. He came home drunk, was mad about something, I don’t remember, but he threw a fit and broke a bunch of stuff in my apartment. I just thought he was an angry drunk, and then it started happening more and more, and I said to him how I didn’t want him going out anymore, and he got mad. This time he wasn’t drunk, and it wasn’t just stuff in our-my apartment, it was me. He stormed out, and then came back and said how sorry he was and that it would never happen again. And he was right. For about a month. And then it happened again. And again. And again. And it kept on happening. Eventually I believed him that I deserved it. I was stupid, and making mistakes. Everything was my fault. That’s…that’s why I don’t like yelling.” This last part was quieter than the rest of your confession. You paused, once again debating whether or not you should go on. “And two months ago, I just…. snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I left. I packed up what was left of my shit and just…walked out.” You finished, defeated. Eliot was still tense. 

“What was his name?” He asked after a minute.

“James.” You answered, resting your head on his shoulder. He reached his arm around and pulled you close. 

“They were both wrong.” He said after another minute of silence. “You’re smart, and kind, and everything  _isn’t_  your fault.” He gave you a squeeze and you nestled closer. He kissed the top of your head. “You probably don’t want to go back in there.” You shook your head. “Let’s go.” He helped you up, wrapping his arm firmly around your waist. You wiped your eyes, pulling makeup off onto your fingers. Eliot chuckled. “You look fine.” You leaned on him and rolled your eyes, knowing he was probably lying. You let him lead you back to his car, let him help you into it. He was so gentle and caring, you started to wonder if that was how a boyfriend was really supposed to act – kind and caring and gentle.


	8. Eliot looks good in glasses

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

It was only for the con. It was only for the con. You had to keep reminding yourself that he didn’t usually wear glasses. But boy, did he look good. The van door suddenly slipped open and Eliot climbed back in, simultaneously pulling his hairband out and running his fingers through it. You tried not to stare, but he still had those glasses on. 

“Did we get what we needed?” He asked Hardison, who was busily typing away, unaware of what you were doing. 

“Yeah, more than enough,” Hardison said without turning around. You clambered past him and into the front seat, turning the key. Eliot climbed in after you, sitting in the passenger seat. Now all you had to do was keep your eyes on the road. 

* * *

Eliot was still wearing those damned glasses once the con was over. You were all getting a drink downstairs when you noticed, once again, how unfairly attractive he was. Everyone was laughing at some joke, and you fake laughed, pretending you were paying attention to anything other than Eliot. 

Eventually, everyone got tired and began to go their separate ways. You and Eliot were the last left at the table. You were just going to take the subway to your apartment, but Eliot insisted on driving you home. 

When you had both got outside, tiny snowflakes had begun to fall. 

“Ugh, it’s not even November yet, why is it snowing?” You groaned zipping up your thin sweatshirt all the way to the top and shoving your hands as deep as they would go into the pockets. Eliot laughed. 

“Here, my car isn’t that far.” He slid his jacket off and put it around your shoulders. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he was being so gentlemanly, or the booze that made you instantly warm up. He led started walking and you jogged a little to catch up, bumping into his shoulder with yours. He rolled his eyes, but the smile was still there. He reached down and grabbed your hand in his. You blushed, but you hoped the darkness of the night would cover that up. 

* * *

You suddenly heard your name and felt someone gently shaking your arm. Drowsily, you opened your eyes and realized you hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re here,” Eliot said gently. You sighed and carefully removed his jacket which you had been using as a blanket and unbuckled your seatbelt. Eliot was already out of the car, opening your door for you before you even had the chance to. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, his arm snaking around your waist to help you teeter all the way up the stairs to your apartment. Finally outside your door, you turned into him. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he answered, knowing how drunk you really were. 

“You look good in those glasses,” you remarked, trying to sound nonchalant, “you should wear them more often.” Eliot smirked at that and bent his head down until his lips were almost touching yours.

“Do they really look that good?” He asked. You couldn’t see it, but his lips brushed yours and you felt him smiling. Without thinking, you moved onto your toes, crashing your lips into his. His lips were soft and gentle, and his arms were around your waist, steadying a very drunk you. Your arms were draped across his shoulders, and he brought you closer to him. He finally broke away, looking down at you. 

“Stay.” You whispered as your eyes fluttered back open. He chuckled. 

“I will, but only because you’re obviously more drunk than I thought, and you’re going to need help in the morning.” 

“I’m not  _that_  drunk,” you said, your words slurring slightly, as you took a step back to dig your keys out of your purse. All Eliot did was smile, and steady you again when you started to tip over. Maybe you did need him.


	9. Eliot's Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Major Character Death

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

Your body didn’t even register the cold as you jumped from the van, running full speed into the warehouse. There wasn’t supposed to be any guns, Hardison had assured you, Parker had double checked, and yet there you were, waiting on Eliot to return when you heard an eruption of gunshots. Eliot was the only thing on your mind. He was unarmed. “I don’t like guns,” he had told you once. Ripping the door open, you saw men running in the other direction towards the other exit and any other day, you would have chased after them, but Eliot had been suspiciously quiet on coms. Quickly scanning the room, you saw three blood-drenched bodies and you rushed over to them. Two you saw immediately were not Eliot; the facial hair alone gave them away, but the third body. That was recognizable. You froze, several feet from the body.

“No. No, no, no, no.” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but you felt like you could hear it echo. You got down on your knees and held him in your arms. “Please, God, please no.” Your tears were spilling down over your face and you could feel his blood warm on your hands. His eyes fluttered open and you gasped and gave him a smile.

“Hey, you’re going to be fine, babe, the ambulance is on it’s way, just stay with me.” He gave you a weak smile, and grabbed one of your hands. He squeezed it, but it was weak. “Hey, hey, stay with me, stay with me, please, please, you can’t die. Please don’t die on me. Eliot.” His eyes fluttered closed, and he was trying to speak. You lowered your ear to hear him better.

“Love…you…”

Your entire body went numb. You felt him shudder then stop moving. You stopped breathing, staring at his lifeless body while tears fled your eyes and ran down your face. You were jolted out of your trance state by footsteps. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, you knew. You honestly didn’t know if you had the strength to turn around. You started to shake and you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder.

“Come on, love.” Sophie’s voice was shaky; you could tell she was crying. 

“Eliot.” Was all you could think to say. “Eliot.” You gently shook him, but Sophie pulled you away, and you buried yourself in her. You’re whole body was shaking now, and your hands were covered in blood –  _his_ blood. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.


	10. Movie Night at Eliot's

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

It had been a particularly exhausting con. You and Eliot had to pretend to be married (which, if you were honest, wasn’t  _that_ hard to fake) to infiltrate a marriage councilor who was purposefully breaking up relationships and destroying lives. But that was all over now, and you curled up next to Eliot on his couch and grabbed a handful of popcorn. His arms around you mixed with a warm blanket meant that you fell asleep very quickly. 

Eliot must have fallen asleep shortly after you, because when you woke up, the movie was once again at the menu screen. Something had woken you up, and you were almost ready to dismiss it as just a loud noise on the TV when it happened again. It wasn’t a loud noise, so much as quiet click, but as a lifelong thief, you could hear a lock being picked a mile away. You froze, fearing that the robber could have a gun. Then you remembered whose arms were around you and you gently shook him awake. 

“Eliot,” you whispered, shaking his arm. He mumbled your name, but didn’t open his eyes. “Eliot, please.” Your voice was strained, and that woke him up. His eyes opened and they were filled with concern as he stared down at you. Then the door opened. You stopped breathing. Eliot got up slowly, carful not to knock you off of the couch, and snuck into the kitchen, where the robber was. You heard a yell, and then Eliot’s clear “Goddamnit!” before you heard two men talking. Eliot was trying to be quiet (and failing) and the other man wasn’t even attempting to be quiet (and succeeding). Your brain finally woke up more and you could distinguish what they were saying.

“Look, I needed it for breakfast tomorrow, it’s Sophie’s favorite.” Nate. It had to be Nate, in a cloud of drunkenness had probably assumed Eliot wouldn’t mind if he just went over and took some spices. Of course he hadn’t thought of the fact that Eliot locked his doors, or that the hitter might be ready for an attack at any moment. After what seemed like forever, you heard a light switch off, the door open, then click shut again, and the lock turned. Eliot came back to the couch, turned the TV off, and picked you up. He carried you into the bedroom as you snuggled close to his chest. 

“What was that all about?” You asked, sleepily.

“Nate being drunk Nate.” He answered, equally as tired. He clambered into bed after he set you down, and you once again curled up next to him. As scared as you were at the time, you almost appreciated your middle-of-the-night wake up call. It was far more comfortable in the bed than on the couch.


	11. Arguing with Eliot

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

It took all your strength not to yell back at Nate, but somehow, you didn’t. He had been lecturing you for what felt like forever, and you were tired. There was finally a break in his rant where you quickly suggested going home. Eliot was quick to offer to drive you home. You tried to resist, but he insisted. His voice was tight and you knew he was upset, so you finally relented. 

It was a quiet ride to your apartment. Not the kind of quiet where you can stare out the window and marvel at the sunset, or people watch; the kind of quiet where you want to leave the situation so the tension doesn’t kill you. He hadn’t even really stopped the car before you opened up the door and jumped out, practically running to the entrance. You don’t know how it happened, but he was suddenly beside you, opening the door. He then followed behind you up the stairs to your apartment. He gave you a look that asked if he could come in, you nodded. He went in and sat on the couch while you got a glass of water. He still hadn’t said anything. Still in the kitchen, you sighed. 

“I know you’re mad at me.” Eliot turned to you. His face didn’t deny it. 

“I am –“ He had barely finished his sentence before you cut him off.

“Look, I just got a pretty lengthy lecture from the ‘functioning’ alcoholic himself about how I put myself in danger and how I shouldn’t do that, even though we got the job done. Even though you and I both know that if I hadn’t done that move, no one would have gotten out of there alive, least of all me, so can we just stop for a second and appreciate the fact that I SAVED EVERYONE’S LIFE? But no, we have to lecture me in front of everyone. I’m done. I don’t care. I don’t care that you’re mad, I did it, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” By the end of your rant you were almost panting. You were so angry. Eliot had stood up at this point and was crossing to join you in the kitchen. 

“Sure, it may have saved us, but the point is you don’t get to make that call, Nate does. Even if you  _think_  you know more about a con than he does, you’re wrong.”

“So Nate is infallible.” Your hands were on your hips and your eyebrows narrowed.

“He’s not infallible, but he does know what he’s doing. You haven’t been in the game long enough to understand-“

“So I’m inexperienced.” You saw Eliot go from irritated to angry in what felt like a heartbeat, but you stood your ground. 

“That’s not what I said! You aren’t letting me finish my goddamn sentences, and if you did, then maybe you would!” He exploded and you were sick of it.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing, Eliot Spencer. I know you. You would have gone in there to take care of that bomb yourself if I wasn’t there. You don’t get to lecture me and tell me I shouldn’t have done that when I was the only thing stopping you from doing it yourself.” Your voice had gotten deadly low, and you pushed past him, but he grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him.

“Listen, please,” he growled. You froze, eyebrows still narrowed, your mouth still in a line. He gently pulled you closer. “I need you to realize why Nate lectured you – why  _I_ yelled at you.” Your face relaxed slightly, wondering what could possibly be the reason, other than anger. “We…” something in his voice had changed, it was vulnerable, choked, as if he was going to cry. “I care about you.” You blinked. What was he talking about? “I…care about you, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He had pulled you even closer to him. “I need you to be safe, we all need you to be safe.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his chest, his head resting on yours. “Please, be careful.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes. No one had cared about you for a long time. It was hard to remember what it felt like, but you did. It felt like this – a warm body wrapped comfortably around yours, telling you they cared.


	12. "It's too hot for this shit, Eliot"

Eliot Spencer/Reader

\--

It was all for the success of the con. You had to dig a grave. No one would ever be in it, at least not for very long, but it still had to be dug. Nate had sent you and Eliot to complete this task and if you were honest, you were almost looking forward to it. Sure, on one hand, it was almost 90 degrees and it was incredibly humid; but on the other hand, that would probably make Eliot take his shirt off and you had been crushing on him for weeks. So you decided to go. A decision you would soon regret. 

Ten minutes in, you had shed your flannel. You cursed your past self, who had been in comfortable air conditioning, for making such a stupid decision. Eliot had also shed his flannel, and was now in a very tight white tank top. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look really good. How was it that he could work in this heat and still be extremely attractive? Sighing, you stretched for another half second then went back to digging.

* * *

Thirty minutes in, Eliot stopped; hopped out of the small divot you’d both made and opened the car door, producing two water bottles. He tossed one to you and you nearly dropped it. The water bottle was sweating almost more than you. You cracked it open and took a huge swig, making your throat feel like a desert having it’s first rain in centuries. Setting it down, you got back to work, and Eliot joined you a few minutes later. 

* * *

“What do you mean that was the only one?” You whined. Apparently, Eliot had forgotten to grab the extra water bottles from the fridge back at HQ. You had both finished your bottles quickly, thinking there was plenty to go around. 

“I thought you grabbed them.” 

“Well I didn’t even know I was going until like two seconds before we left, why would I know to grab them?” You were hot, tired, and thirsty. No amount of almost-shirtless Eliot was going to make you better. You needed a water bottle and some shade. 

“Let’s just finish up quick and then we can head back.” You grumbled. You knew full well that finishing up was not going to be quick, but you picked your shovel back up and continued digging.

* * *

“C’mon El, please?” Eliot glanced up and glared at you. It wasn’t personal, but he was just as hot as you were. “C’mon, El, it’s too hot for this shit, can’t we take a break? It’s muggy and I’m dying.” You set dropped the shovel and it hit the dirt with a clang. Eliot closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Look, I know it’s hot, crazy as it may seem, I’m out here too. If we stop digging, they’ll be onto us. We’ve only been out here a like an hour.” You stared, gaping at him. It had literally been two hours, and you’d only dug a shallow grave. 

“If we don’t stop I’m going to die.”

“Heat stroke or dehydration?” He asked sarcastically.

“Both.” You shot back.

“Please? It’s been two hours. It’s 4:00.” You showed him your phone. His eyebrows rose. 

“Hm. Time flies.” 

“Yeah, when you’re having  _fun_ , not when you’re digging a damn grave,” you grumbled as you picked your shovel up and brushed the residual dirt off the handle. “They better’ve been watching.” You hopped out of the hold you two had made and walked over to the car.

“Oh, they were watching,” Eliot said. “This is really a great field. I didn’t realize when Nate picked it out, but it really is perfect.” You turned around, brow furrowed, thoroughly frightened. “Yeah, perfect place to hide a dead body. No one would look out here. Perfect place to kill someone, too, for the same reasons.” You blinked a couple of times. Eliot was still looking over the field. 

“Remind me to tell Nate to never send me on grave digging duty with you again.” You snapped out of your trance and began to put your shovel in the bed of Eliot’s truck. Eliot turned around for that. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here, you’ll be safe.” You turned around and raised a single eyebrow.

“El,  _you’re_  what I’m afraid of.” He rolled his eyes and clambered out of the grave and followed your suit, lightly cleaning his shovel, tossing it in the bed of the truck, and then climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the key. A blast of hot air came out of the vents and you quickly turned the air off. 

“Give it a minute.” Eliot said as he began to drive away. A few minutes later you were back on the road, air on full blast. You made it; you were finally out of the heat.


	13. Birthday Celebration

Eliot/Reader

\--

“So you’ve really never had a birthday party before?” Parker was confused. Sure, she hadn’t had many birthday parties before, but Archie would give her a present on her birthday when she was with him, and the team was good about wishing each other happy birthdays in their own special ways. 

“No, I guess not. I mean I don’t really get the point. One year older isn’t really something to celebrate.” You said, absentmindedly-helping Parker fix Parker 2000. Parker scrunched up her face. What was the point of birthdays? Now she was even more confused than before. 

You were both entranced by your work and your conversation that you hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room. Sophie was sitting on the couch. She wasn’t really trying to listen, but she heard anyway.  _Never had a birthday?_  She thought to herself, wracking her brain to see if she even knew when your birthday was. She came up empty.

Eliot was in the kitchen. Like Sophie, he was trying not to listen to your conversation, but his heart sank slightly when he heard your nonchalant answer of ‘no’. He of all people knew what it was like to hate being in the spotlight, but he also knew that sometimes, it was good to know that someone cared. He began to formulate a plan when he suddenly stopped. When  _was_  your birthday?

* * *

It had been several weeks since the birthday conversation with Parker. Sophie had asked Nate to supply your birthday, and Eliot had asked Hardison. 

“How am I supposed to know?” Nate asked when Sophie broached the topic. “It’s not like they’re my kid.” Sophie rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I mean as long as we know their real name, I can find it.” Hardison began tapping on his keyboard. Eliot knew he had come to the right place. 

Finally Sophie stopped Eliot on his way out the door after they had finished a con. “I know you were there and heard the exact same thing I did.” Eliot’s brow furrowed. It was a very vague statement and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to have remembered. Sophie sighed, and then carefully pointed at you. Eliot’s eyebrows raised in recognition. “When is it?”

“Hardison is still looking,” he answered.

* * *

“It’s tomorrow.” Hardison had carefully walked up to the kitchen the next day to give Eliot the news in person. 

“Tomorrow? Shit that’s not enough time,” Eliot said, realizing he hadn’t even started cooking anything for the occasion, expecting it to be in a couple of months, or at least a week. He left the kitchen to find Sophie and give her the bad news. 

“Tomorrow!?” Sophie exclaimed. “I guess we’ll have to work quickly then.”

Thankfully, the con they had constructed was a short one and Sophie had enough time to pull together a nice party. Eliot had just enough time to bake everything he needed. You had gone home after the con. While you enjoyed the company of your friends, every once in a while it was nice to just be alone. 

* * *

 _Bzzzzt bzzzzt bzzzzt. Bzzzzt bzzzzt bzzzzt._ You rolled over and grabbed your phone. The display showed an incoming call from Nate. Groggily you answered. 

“What’s the word, chief.” 

“Are you awake?”

“Not really. New client?” 

“Yeah, can you be down in 20 minutes?” 

“Make it 40.” You clicked the red ‘end’ button before replacing your phone on your bedside table and sitting up. You finally began getting ready and it wasn’t until you were half way through your shower that you realized how strange it was for Nate to call you. It was Normally El, Hardison, or Parker, because of the system they had contrived. Nate would call one of the trio, they would call another, and somewhere in the mix, they would call you. Always second hand, never directly from the source. You shrugged it off after you got out of the shower, figuring something was up with the kind of client they had acquired. 

* * *

Walking into the bar, you were suddenly engulfed in Sophie. She had attacked you with a huge hug. When she finally let you go, she stepped back. 

“Happy birthday!” She exclaimed, and then you noticed. The bar had been decorated in your favorite color, and at the center, a cake surrounded by your favorite foods, all courtesy of Eliot, you assumed. The whole team was standing around the food, smiling. You smiled back, but it was more of a confused smile than a happy one.

“What’s going on?” You asked Sophie. 

“Well a few weeks ago you told Parker that you’d never had a birthday party before, so we rectified that.” This made you smile a real, happy smile. You walked over and Eliot began to cut the cake. 

Parker was watching you during the duration of the party. She watched you smile and laugh. Then she realized why people had birthday parties – to celebrate you. And this family was pretty good at doing that.


	14. Repelling with Parker

Eliot/Reader and Hardison/Parker

\--

“So it’s really easy, trust me,” Parker said as she began to climb the wall of the Brew Pub. She had hooked you up to a harness as well and was teaching you to climb. It was fairly simple, and very fun, but it was considerably more fun when Parker was with you. Hardison had made sure to pick a building with high ceilings. Dating Parker meant he was more in tune with what she liked. High ceilings were definitely on that list. 

You both began climbing and once you had reached the top, Parker smiled wide. 

“This is my favorite part.” Then she launched herself off the beam you were both sitting on and fell all the way back down and landed softly on the couch. Bouncing up off of it, she looked back up and signaled for you to do the same. You stared back at her, a little nervously. 

“C’mon, it’s completely safe, I promise!” You didn’t quite believe her, but you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and tossed yourself from the beam. You felt the rush of cool air on your face and your stomach dropped, and then you felt the plushy fabric of the couch cushion. You landed with an ‘oof’ which made Parker laugh, but it was a crazy adrenaline rush and as soon as you had stood up, you wanted to try again. Parker was only too willing. 

Even after several more times of climbing up and falling down, you hadn’t had enough. You began to scale the wall next to Parker. Now she was teaching you to scale quietly, in case you needed to do it for a mission. You were racing, seeing who could get up both the quickest and the quietest. Little did either of you know, Hardison and Eliot had decided to see what the score of the game was. They had settled on the couch and were flipping through channels. Both you and Parker had been playing the up and down game for long enough that neither of you waited for the other to reach the top before falling back down onto the couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Parker beat you to the top and waved to you as she sailed downwards. You rolled your eyes and reached the top seconds after she had, and began to descend. You heard a shriek followed by a soft “Oof,” from below and saw that Parke had landed directly on top of Hardison, and that you were about to land on Eliot, who was now looking up. But it was too late. One second later, you were lying awkwardly in Eliot’s lap. You smiled sheepishly as he raised a single eyebrow at you. 

“Sorry…” You began but he said nothing, only unhooking you from the rope. 

“I think that’s enough repelling for one day,” he said, his gravely voice doing wonders for you. You blushed and broke eye contact, trying to find a place to rest your hand that wasn’t Eliot, so you could get up. “Let me help you with that,” he said as he gently grabbed your hand and helped you up. Hardison was still telling Parker off for scaring him like that and you heard him get cut off by Parker kissing him. You glanced behind Eliot and saw the look of shock on Hardison’s face before he melted into the kiss. Eliot was now looking behind himself as well and gently took your waist guiding you towards the restaurant area of the Brew Pub. “Let’s give them some space,” Eliot whispered in your ear. You felt the blush creep its way up your neck and into your face. Thankfully, the lights had been dimmed for the dinner crowd so it was very unlikely that Eliot would see you this red. 

“I was - just going to – head home, I guess,” you said, trying to maintain at least some of your dignity. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Eliot decided. You were secretly pleased because you’d been crushing on Eliot for months, but you were also anxious to get away. You were afraid you were reading too far into things. He walked you outside to the sidewalk. You were a little surprised at just how dark it was, the amount of time you’d spent in a well lit, almost windowless room was making itself obvious.

“It’s pretty dark out, you want me to walk you to your car?” Eliot asked, and you hesitated before nodding. 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you said, catching what he was throwing. He smiled and you let his hand slip around your waist. You leaned your head against his shoulder as he walked you all the way to your car. 

“This is me,” you said, pointing to your car, and you turned to unlock it when he spun you around to face him. It took you off guard, but even in the poorly lit parking structure, you could see those beautiful green eyes. You stared into them and he stared back. You both began to lean in at almost the same moment, and then you felt his soft lips on yours, and you were kissing. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with his hair. You felt him smile as he kissed you and both of his arms stretched around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Finally, he broke away. You were both panting slightly, and Eliot rested his forehead on yours. He chuckled softly. “Coffee tomorrow?” He asked, barely a whisper, but he knew you could hear him. 

“Only if you’re buying,” you teased and he smiled. 

“Drive safe, babe,” he said as you got in your car and you blushed, this time not caring if he saw or not.


	15. Eliot, the Savior

Eliot/Reader

\--

You woke up in a very dark room. Well you had a black bag over your head, so it might not be very dark, but it was for you. You tried to move your hands, but they were tied to the arms of a wooden chair. The same went for your feet. You began to hyperventilate, trying to figure out what the best course of action would be, why you were here, who had you, why you were tied up; the standard questions you ask yourself when you find yourself tied to a chair. Suddenly, you heard footsteps outside the room you were being kept in. You heard the squeak of the door open and the subsequent bang as it shut. 

“So, our sleeping beauty awakes.” You said nothing. You didn’t recognize the voice, but you were sure it had something to do with the con. Without warning, the bag was ripped from your head, and a blinding light was shone in your face. “Now your little friends will see what happens when someone tries to con  _me._ ” His voice was sinister, but your eyes were still trying to erase the white cloud that had set in your eyes. You blinked, but it did nothing. You had been in the dark too long, and the light was too bright. You squinted, trying to get some idea of anything – the size of the room, whom had you captured, if there was anyone else present – but to no avail. Out of no where you felt a knife dig its way into your skin, not deep enough to do any real damage, but enough to make you cry out in pain. You felt the blood drip down your skin from the shallow wound. Then you felt it again, on the other side of your body. You couldn’t tell where he was standing, and you felt the knife four more times before he stopped. Your eyes had adjusted at this point. You saw you were situated in a small room, facing a camera. A giant lamp was pointed in your direction, illuminating only your side of the room. And then you saw him. The mark: a white pasty sociopathic man who had wronged many of his employees. 

He was, what you assumed to be, a normal mark. You and Eliot had done some simple recon, figured out his pattern; Hardison had hacked his computer; Parker had broken into his office to gather intel; and Sophie and Nate had pretended to be new employees. It had appeared on the outside, to go swimmingly. But given your current position, something had gone horribly wrong. He faced the camera. 

“See, I don’t like it very much that you wanted to con me. You wanted to take my lively hood away, something that was important to me. Well now, because it’s only fair, I’m going to take something important from you.” He spun around and slowly drove the knife into your stomach. You gasped at the pain. He stepped out from in front of you so the camera could get a good look at your pained expression. You felt tears prick at the edges of your eyes. You felt your body go numb. You couldn’t look at the camera. Then everything went black.

* * *

You woke up with the bag on your head once more. You felt a tight bandage around your stomach and then you felt it drop. You knew the only reason he hadn’t let you bleed out – he wasn’t finished with you yet. You flexed your hands and feet, testing how far you could move them, and being disappointed with what you found. There was no way for you to get out of this situation. Your only hope was that the team was watching and could figure out where you were. Then you heard the squeak and bang, and you tensed. You heard a laugh. A booming sinister laugh. “Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?” The mark asked. You wanted to scream, to tell him that you were afraid of him, but you were also afraid that it might make him more sadistic. You gritted your teeth and prepared for the worst.

* * *

Several more videos later, you were done. You were ready to die. He had done his worst – and more, and you weren’t sure how much your body could physically take. You were slumped over in the chair, and your wrists and ankles hurt from trying to free yourself. You heard the door squeak open, quickly this time, then bang, but it was a different bang, almost like the door had swung back and hit the wall. You jumped and tensed, waiting for whatever horrors were awaiting you, and you were surprised to find they weren’t coming. You heard your name, making you jump again, but it was gentle.

“Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Eliot.” He sounded relieved, and he carefully removed the black bag from your head. You were crying again, but this time with relief. He quickly kissed you, then took out his pocketknife and made quick work of the ropes keeping you in place. You fell against him and he held you for a second. “We have to go, babe.” He whispered into your ear and you tried to stand, but quickly found that that was not going to work. Without skipping a beat, Eliot picked you up, bridal style, and began walking towards the exit. The effort it took to even attempt to stand was too much, and you felt yourself passing out again. The last thing you saw was Eliot’s worried face. 

* * *

You woke up to the setting sun full on your face. You were tucked into a bed who’s comforter you didn’t recognize. In a room you couldn’t quite place. You mind went to the worst possible scenario, but you found your hands and feet unbound. Carefully and quietly, you got out of bed. And then almost fell back into bed because you had stood up too quickly. Standing up slower this time, you found yourself wobbly on your feet, but you still managed almost get to the door, when it swung open. 

“You’re awake!” It was Eliot. He was surprised to see you standing there and he quickly set down the tray of food to help you get back into bed.

“Where am I?” You croaked out, your throat was very dry and you hadn’t talked in quite some time. 

“Nate had a spare room, we put you up here since we’re all here most of the time anyway.” You noticed a sleeping bag and pillow at the end of the bed on the floor. “I’ve been, uh, fixin you up, and I figured you, uh, probably didn’t want me sleeping in the bed, and I wanted to make sure I was here when you, uh, woke up.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly and you smiled. 

“Food?” You asked, the smell suddenly getting to you and making you hungry. This brought Eliot out of his trance and he jumped up. He handed you at the tray, taking his plate off of it, and you began to devour the meal. Obviously Eliot had made the meal, it was delicious, and you finished it quickly. Eliot smirked at you and you blushed. He finished his meal and took the tray and set it on the chair. It was dark now, and you were suddenly tired again. You rubbed your eyes, and Eliot took his cue, telling you he was going to be right back, and that he was just taking the dishes downstairs. You gave him a small understanding smile, and he turned off the light as he left. You were plunged into darkness and you felt your whole body go numb. You froze and couldn’t move until you saw a beam of light from the hallway followed by a flashlight.

“You ok?” Eliot sounded extremely concerned and he made his way to the side of the bed. You suddenly calmed when he put his hand on yours. “It’s ok, you’re safe.” You took a deep breath. 

“Stay, please.” You whimpered into the darkness. Now it was Eliot’s turn to freeze, even if it was only for a second; the next second he clambered over you onto the other side of the bed, careful not to hit any of your injuries. As soon as he was under the covers, you curled into his chest, and he put his arms protectively around you. 

“I’ve got you, I’ll protect you,” he whispered into the top of your head.

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“’Till my dyin’ day.”


	16. Eliot v. Nate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of another imagine, and I'll put a link here when I've posted it.

Eliot/Reader

\--

Eliot held you for a second longer before asking the inevitable question.

“What happened?” You took a deep breath, trying to regain control of your breathing. 

“Long story.” Was all you got out, but Eliot wasn’t buying it. 

“I’ve got time,” he said as he helped you up. He led you down the stairs and through the bar. You wiped your eyes suddenly extremely self conscious, knowing your eyes were probably very red by now. Eliot led you out the door and down the street to a small coffee shop that you always got coffee from. He sat you down at a table and ordered your favorite blend. “Ok, I need to know what happened back there.” His voice was low, but gentle. You sat there for a second, trying to decide whether or not you should tell him, eventually deciding on the latter. 

“This is going to sound stupid,” you prefaced, and he gently set his hand on yours, letting you know it was ok. “He…yelled at me.” You paused, realizing how stupid you sounded. 

“From what I know, and how you reacted back there, either more happened than you’re letting on, or there’s a story there.” You stared at your steaming coffee. “Hey, it’s ok.” You closed your eyes and began from the very beginning.

Your boyfriend – ex boyfriend – had bad anger issues. He didn’t start out with them, though, which is why you stayed. The first time he screamed at you, he apologized and told you it would never happen again. And it didn’t. For two months. You learned that he had lost his job and wasn’t paying rent or utilities in the apartment you shared with him. You were angry with him, and, in his defense, you did start yelling first. But he went off the rails and punched a hole through the wall. He never hit the wall again; his favorite punching bag became you. Eventually, there came a time where he was never sober. You would get home and be berated by him for not cooking dinner, for not cleaning the kitchen, or just not doing whatever it was that he wanted you to do. You learned that if you cried, he only got angrier. You finally broke off your relationship and all ties to him two months ago. But five months wasn’t a long enough time. The yelling still got to you, even if you were going to support groups. You learned you deserved better, but no matter what your frontal lobe attempted to tell you, deep down the words still stung. 

Eliot was listening intently. By the end of your story, his hand was still on yours, but you saw his other hand was clenched in a fist. You took a deep breath, telling yourself it wasn’t meant for you. Eliot followed your line of sight, and quickly released his tensed hand. “Sorry, I’m just pissed.” You quickly recoiled your hands from the table, and he realized his mistake. “Not at you, no, at Nate. I can’t believe he was such an asshole.” You smiled, weakly, and he helped you up out of your seat. You left the coffee shop, and Eliot suggested you take the day off. You nodded, agreeing with his idea. On your way to your car, you ran into none other than Nate himself. Within in seconds of processing who was standing in front of you, Eliot had him pinned up against the wall. 

“Eliot stop!” You cried. Nate was visibly uncomfortable, and in a bit of pain, but he looked scared. 

“He knew what he did.” Was all Eliot said. Against your better judgment, you inched forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Eliot please,” your voice was calmer than you were and it surprised everyone, including yourself. Eliot slowly lowered Nate back to the ground, and he ran his hand gingerly over his neck. You stayed where you were. After a minute, Nate stood up and looked back at you. You now saw a bright red mark on his cheek, and guessed it was from Sophie. You swallowed nervously. 

“Hey, so, uhh…” he began, anxiously taking a step back from Eliot. “Hey, um, about last night….” He started once again, but he still didn’t finish. “Look, I was wrong. I’m…sorry.” He finally spit out. It was the first time you’d ever heard those words come out of his mouth before and you just stood there, not quite sure what to do. “Sorry.” He said again, his eyes shifting from you to the floor and he slipped his hands into his pockets. Finally processing what he said, you smiled, albeit weakly. 

“I’m not going to say it’s ok, because clearly it’s not, but thanks,” your voice was horse both from the story and from crying. “It really does mean a lot.” You finished, stepping forward and gently putting your hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you, confused. You smiled, then turned and began to walk once more to the parking garage where your car was parked. You turned and saw Eliot glaring at Nate, but he eventually turned back to you and continued to help you to your car. His half-hearted apology wasn’t what you were expecting, but it was a start.


	17. Parker and Hardison Kidnap Eliot's dad

Eliot/Parker/Hardison

\--

Eliot hit the steering wheel as he drove away. He wanted to mend things with his dad, but cowardice had gotten the better of him. He angrily wiped his eyes as the tears escaped. He headed back to the Brew Pub. 

Parker always seemed to drag Hardison along with her schemes. She wanted to know why Eliot was acting so weird.

“Then just asking him, babe,” Hardison answered, not liking the idea of spying on the hitter. 

“If I ask him, he’ll lie. The only way to get the truth is to follow him, come on.” She had finished hotwiring the car. Hardison hesitated for a second, but her irritated expression made him jump in the car. 

For all her driving faults, Parker was surprisingly good at tailing suspects. She stayed several cars behind, always making sure she could see the car, but they couldn’t see her. After a while, she followed Eliot to a small sleepy neighborhood. She pulled up several houses down and they both watched. Eliot exited the truck, grabbing a six-pack from the passenger seat. It was dark now, but with the streetlight, Parker and Hardison could still see. They watched him go up to the door. He knocked twice. Then he carefully set the six-pack in front of the door and clambered back into his truck and drove away. Parker and Hardison looked at each other. 

* * *

The next day, Parker had Hardison by the collar.

“Come on, we have to help Eliot.”

“Listen, babe, I want to help him, but I don’t think he wants us to.” Parker spun around. 

“He might not  _want_  us to, but he  _needs_  us to.” Then she retook hold of his collar and dragged him to the car. It took a while, but they eventually made it back to the house Eliot had stopped at the previous night. Parker jumped out of the car, opened the screen door and knocked loudly on the cared wooden door. Nothing. She knocked again. Nothing. She knocked harder, and this time she heard someone.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” An older man opened the door and stared at them. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want.” He began to close the door, but Parker stopped him. He turned back to her, frowning.

“Sir, we’re friends of Eliot’s.” Something changed in his eyes.

“You know Eliot.” He looked them both up and down. “Well he doesn’t want to talk to me, why do you want to?”

“He does, sir, he just tried to catch you last night, but you didn’t answer the door,” Hardison chimed in from behind Parker. 

“So he’s alive, eh?” The old man nodded. “Well I lost my son a long time ago to the United States Military. You tell him I meant what I said.” Hardison saw a tear glint in his eyes. 

“Sir, please – “ but the door was already closed. Parker looked down and saw the six-pack that had been laid on the porch the night previous was no longer there. She stepped back, then looked at Hardison. 

“Ok, plan B.”

* * *

Eliot was sitting on the couch in front of the TV catching up on the latest game. He had a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. Hardison and Parker slunk in behind him. Hardison made sure to keep a safe distance. Parker didn’t care. 

“Hey Eliot, what’s up?” She asked, resting her head on the back of the couch next to his. He turned his head slightly, then motioned to the TV. “We gotcha a present,” she said, practically giggling with anticipation. This made Eliot turn around. He looked over at Hardison, who looked extremely nervous. 

“What is it?” He asked cautiously. Hardison refused to make eye contact. 

“Come on, we’ll take you to it.” Parker was far too happy about this. Though a little hesitant, Eliot stood up and began to follow the bouncy blonde back to what Eliot had assumed was a storage closet. Parker gestured towards the door with a huge smile on her face. Eliot, confused, grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. 

Inside was a man, in his late 60s, short brown hair speckled with gray. He was passed out, tied to a chair. Eliot’s eyes widened as he recognized who the man was. 

“Ta-da!” Parker said as he turned to her. 

“You kidnapped my dad?” He asked, outraged. 

“Well, yeah. You said you hadn’t talked to him a while, and to be fair, we asked nicely first, and then – “

“So he doesn’t want to be here?” Parker raised one eyebrow. 

“Why do you think he’s tied to a chair?” Eliot sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. After calming himself down, he grabbed the legs of the chair and carefully pulled it out into the back room of the Brew Pub. 

“Parker chloroformed him, he should be up soon…” Hardison trailed off. As Parker was explaining their ‘present’, he had been slowly sneaking towards the exit in case Eliot flew off the rails. Parker caught up to him and started to drag him out of the back room. 

“Have fun!” She called over her shoulder.   

Eliot just stared for a while. He was older than he remembered, but of course he was. Sure, Eliot was angry with the two, they shouldn’t have kidnapped his dad, but now, now he could really talk to him – apologize even. Then the anxiety set in. What if he didn’t want to hear an apology? The man in front of him began to shift, and Eliot sat up straight. He took a breath and cleared his mind as the old man lifted his head. He blinked a few times.

“Eliot?”


	18. Eliot keeps Sophie's Secret

Eliot/Sophie (BrOTP)

\--

Sophie sighed. She was sitting on the edge of the tub staring intently at the little screen attempting to make the test go faster. She bit her lip and stood up, staring at herself in the mirror. She looked back down and saw two little pink lines standing parallel to each other. Her breath caught. She smiled for a second before her expression dropped – how was she going to tell Nate? 

“Soph, we’ve got a client at the Pub, we gotta go.” Nate called from the hallway. Quickly, Sophie wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper in an effort to conceal it, and tossed it in the garbage under the sink. She washed her hands, dried them, and then took a breath. She stole one more look at herself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom and heading towards the door. She found Nate waiting for her. He surprised her by giving her a kiss before snaking his arm around her waist and leading her out into the hallway of their apartment. 

* * *

After they met with the client and Hardison had done some research, they all congregated in the back room of the Brew Pub. Eliot gave Sophie a strange look, but she waved it off. Eliot was full of strange looks. There’s no way he could know. Hardison jumped right into his spiel. 

* * *

By the time it came to running the con, Sophie had all but forgotten her troubles from that morning. She was pretending to be a movie star from Wales, and Eliot was her bodyguard. On their way to the gala, Eliot suddenly muted his coms and signaled for Sophie to do the same. She did, though hesitantly. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked her, giving her a cautious look.

“Of course, it’s my job,” she was taken aback by the sudden concern, ”Why do you ask?” Eliot gave her a look.  
“Does Nate know?” Sophie closed her eyes and set her head back on the headrest.

“Is it  _that_  obvious?” 

“You have a…distinctive walk,” was all Eliot said. Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Parker and Hardison are oblivious, if that helps. I think Nate just thinks you’re sick.” 

“He doesn’t know,” she huffed. Not in anger or frustration, but more in defeat. 

“You have to tell him at some point,” Eliot said, sympathetically. 

“I know, I just…I want to make sure before I get his hopes up.” Eliot nodded. He understood. “Please don’t tell anyone.” Eliot turned to look at her. He wanted her to know that he meant every word he said.  
“I won’t,” he paused for a second, “But after the con, you have to tell him.” Sophie nodded. That was fair. She just needed time to make sure she was making the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple more parts to this imagine, I'll link them here when I post them.


	19. Eliot Teaching Self-Defense

Eliot/Reader

\--

“Look, it makes sense if you really think about it,” You were sitting at the counter watching Eliot do his magic. 

“I don’t understand what your obsession with this is. You don’t need to learn self defense if I’m there.” 

“But what if you’re not?” Eliot glanced up at you. “Come on, you taught Parker some self defense, you even taught Sophie, please?” 

“I haven’t taught Hardison anything,” Eliot parried

“Well, yeah, it’s Hardison. He hates the field. I’m in the field all the time.” Eliot rolled his eyes in defeat.

“Fine,” he conceded as he began dicing onions. You smiled and continued to watch as Eliot finished cooking.

* * *

After you had all eaten dinner, he slipped you a small piece of paper. On it was an address and a time. The specified time was in an hour, so you rushed out of the Brew Pub and back to your apartment to get ready. Afterwards, you practically sped the entire way there, making it just on time. You quickly pushed open the door, expecting to see a gym full of people. Instead you were greeted with the beautiful sight of Eliot, by himself, hitting a punching bag. You smirked and let your bag drop to the floor. You leaned against a nearby pillar and enjoyed the view. After a couple of minutes, Eliot turned around.

“How long have you been standing there?” He asked. If you didn’t know him better, you might have said he sounded embarrassed.

“Just a couple of minutes, don’t worry about it,” you answered, walking over to him. 

* * *

Two hours later, you were hot, sweaty, and tired, but Eliot still hadn’t stopped. You could be just as stubborn as him, and you knew that if you stopped when you got tired, Eliot would use that as an excuse to stop teaching you. So you pushed through your fatigue. Eventually, however, it caught up to you.

“No, your form’s all off,” Eliot said, adjusting your arms. His hands lingering a little longer than necessary on your skin. 

“Then show me,” you said, lowering your tired arms. Eliot smirked and stood behind you, holding your arms. 

“Like this,” he whispered in your ear. Your breath caught. “And this,” he adjusted your stance with his feet. You weren’t breathing. “And this,” his lips were practically brushing against your ear and you were sure he could hear your heart beating a mile a minute. Then he stepped away. “Perfect.” You dropped your arms and stood up straight. 

“Tease,” you said, frowning. He laughed, then stepped forward and lifted your chin. He pressed his soft lips against yours, tasting sweat and determination. It was only for a second before he pulled away, but to you, it felt like a lifetime. 

“Just a tease?” He asked, his lips brushing against yours with every word.


	20. Telling Eliot You're Pregnant

Eliot/Reader

\--

You hadn’t been feeling particularly well lately. You had gotten up this morning and puked. Eliot blamed it on the old takeout you had had for dinner the previous night and you agreed with him. 

Around noon, you started feeling a bit better. You walked down the steps to the P.O. box and got the mail. Sifting through it, you finally got to a letter from you doctor. Half way up the steps, you froze. It took a second, but the nauseous feeling you felt when you saw the letter passed, and you quickly hurried up the steps and back into the apartment.

It took four hours to open the letter. Every time you tried, you thought over the possibility of bad news, and you’d stop, setting it back down. You tried to do something, anything, to take your mind off of it, but eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You weren’t sure how to feel. You held the piece of paper in your hands reading and rereading every word. You had been so careful, what went wrong? More importantly, how were you going to tell Eliot? He was always worried about you and your safety, adding a baby to the mix might just be too far. You sat cross-legged on the couch, biting your thumbnail anxiously. 

* * *

Eliot got home just as everything was going downhill. You had decided to make his favorite meal, but since Eliot was a master chef, he usually did the cooking. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on,” Eliot demanded as he entered the kitchen as you both rushed to the stove to try and save whatever you could. Of course, Eliot saved everything. 

“Trying to make dinner?” You said, as if you had been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

“Darlin’, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it…”  
“I just have zero talent in the kitchen?” You finished, barely holding in a laugh. He looked over apologetically, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. Eliot smiled, loving the fact that you were happy. Once he had saved the dishes, he realized exactly what they were. Fear suddenly filled his eyes as he wracked his brain trying to think of what anniversary or birthday he was missing. You saw how hard he was thinking and stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss before heading to the table. That pulled him out of his trance and he followed you in. On any normal day, you’d have a glass of wine, he’d have a beer, but given the news, you swapped the alcohol for water. This did not go unnoticed by Eliot. 

“Ok, so as far as I can tell, I haven’t missed any important days, and you never cook, and I just bought you a bottle of your favorite wine, and you aren’t drinking it. What’s going on,” Eliot demanded once you had both settled down. You looked up at him and bit your lip before staring back down at your plate. 

“I, um, got some new today,” you started. Eliot raised an eyebrow. “Good news, sort of, I guess, I don’t know, it all depends on your perspective – “ Eliot cut you off.

“Darlin’ what was the news?” He was smirking, knowing you didn’t want to tell him; he was forcing your hand.  _Two can play at that game_ , you thought as you got up from the table and retrieved the papers from the coffee table and handed them to him. You began to play with your food as he read the letter. You glanced up at him and his eyes got wide.

“We’re…having a baby?” He asked, looking up at you. Looking up at him, you gave him a small nod and his face broke out into an ecstatic smile. He jumped up and engulfed you in a hug. All of your fears evaporated in that second. You hugged him back. He pulled back slightly and kissed you. No matter how many times he did that, you always felt breathless afterward. He pulled back again and rested his forehead on yours. His arms wrapped around your waist. He then pulled out one hand and gently placed it on your stomach. He kissed your forehead.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he said, almost to himself. He was in awe. Relieved at his ecstatic demeanor, you let yourself be smothered in his arms.


	21. Sad Drunk

Eliot/Reader, Hardison/Parker

\--

Parker never got drunk. She always attributed it to the fact that she didn’t like beer. Tonight was different. Tonight, she sat at the bar and poured herself drink after drink. Neither Eliot nor Hardison knew what to do about it, but you, being close friends with her, sat down and began to pour yourself a drink. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. You just sat and drank. The bar tender knew both of you and just put the drinks on your tab, knowing that you would pay it off. Eventually, everyone left, and you two were still drinking. Once the bar had been completely empty for a while, Parker spoke.

“Why does everything have to suck?” Her voice quivered and, in your drunken state, you felt yourself start to cry as well. 

“Because…shit I don’t know, it just does,” you said, trying to be helpful, but finding your brain fuzzy and uncooperative.   
“I just, why did they leave me there?” She asked, you could hear the tears in her voice without even looking at her. Even in your inebriated state, you knew she was talking about her parents. You thought about your own parental predicament. 

“No idea, probably the same reason mine left me,” you said, suddenly feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. 

“I just hate not knowing, ya know? Like…was it me?” She was speaking quietly now, almost in a whisper, and her question broke the dam and you felt tears begin to crawl down your face.   
“It wasn’t you, it wasn’t you,” you said, your slurred language made it hard for either of you to understand what you were saying, and crying didn’t help clear anything up either. 

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Eliot and he looked extremely concerned. You and Hardison were tied for the empath title on the team, but you tried very hard to hide your negative emotions. You finally couldn’t take it anymore, and you felt a fresh bout of tears flood your eyes. Eliot brought you into his chest, squeezing you tightly. He ran his fingers through your hair and played with it, knowing that it calmed you down. After a while, you pulled back and refused to look at him. He got up from his seat and got both you and Parker a bottle of water. You hadn’t noticed it, but Parker was being held tightly by none other than Alec Hardison. It looked like she was flinching, but you recognized it as crying. After a minute, she too sat up and took the water bottle. She was hiccupping now. She leaned her head against Hardison’s chest. 

“You know, if they could see you now, I’m sure they’d regret sending you away,” Hardison said softly, “I mean, if I had a kid that was as badass as you, I’d keep them forever.” This made Parker smile. Eliot touched your hand with his. 

“You’re obscenely drunk, darlin’, I’m gonna drive you home,” he said, helping you up and into your coat. Hardison waved goodbye to you and Eliot and Eliot waved back. Neither you nor Parker was in any condition to be waving. 

* * *

Eliot helped you to his car, then into his car. He gave you another water bottle and told you to finish it, which you gladly did. At some point, you passed out.

You were awoken by a gentle nudge, courtesy of Eliot. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, sorry to wake you,” you gave him a small, sleepy smile before trying to get out of the car by yourself. It didn’t go well. You leaned against the car and sat down. Eliot jumped out of the front seat and carefully picked you up before leading you into the apartment building. Once inside the apartment, you found yourself in bed. The covers were soft and warm, and you saw Eliot leaving the room.

“Eliot,” you slurred, and tried to wave him over. You heard him chuckle, but he came over and kneeled by the bedside. “Stay, please.” You slurred, and through your mostly closed eyes, you saw him smile. You felt the bed sink slightly as he got in next to you, and you felt warm as he curled himself around you. All these factors combined, you fell asleep within minutes.

* * *

“I wouldn’t want me as a kid,” Parker said after you and Eliot left. Alec looked down at her with sad eyes. 

“Babe, you are amazing, you are wonderful, and you are…” He struggled to find the word. 

“Hopeless?” She suggested. Alec chuckled.   
“The opposite. Babe, you’re incredible.” She gave him a watery sigh, then sat up. 

“Ya know, I could really use some pretzels.”


	22. Eliot Finds out You're Pregnant

Eliot/Reader

\--

You had only found out that morning, and you knew that false positives existed, so you decided to wait until a doctor had confirmed it. That was how you rationalized not telling Eliot. Other than that, it was a normal morning. Eliot kissed you awake, made you breakfast, and drove you both to work. 

Leverage Consulting got a lot of cases, and it was your job to sift through them and find real cases, then give them to Nate to decided which ones the team would tackle first. You were basically a glorified secretary, though no one would admit that to your face. 

“Sure you’re ok, babe?” Eliot asked as you made your way back to the Brew Pub. You had thrown up this morning (you suspected morning sickness) and he was worried about you. 

“I’m fine, it must have been something I ate,” you elbowed him playfully. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open for you. Everyone was doing their own thing. Hardison was researching your latest case on his computer, you passed Sophie and Nate on your way in with a client, but Parker was no where to be seen. You both looked up to see the young blonde coming down on a rope from the ceiling. She landed on the counter. 

“It’s really fun, you should try it!” She said, in her usual Parker greeting. She had been trying to get you to let her teach you to repel for months, and you’d politely declined every time. You weren’t exactly a fan of heights. Parker shrugged, and then began once again to climb to the ceiling.

Finally, Nate and Sophie walked back in. Hardison got up and headed over to the counter. Nate looked around, counting heads, more out of habit than necessity. 

“Where’s Parker?” He asked Hardison, knowing that if anyone knew where the finicky thief was, it would be him. Hardison sighed and tilted his head up to the ceiling. 

“Babe! We’re ready to go to work!” He called up. Not two seconds later, a body came flying down and landed on the counter in front of you. Without thinking, you instinctively backed up and covered your stomach. Parker was laughing, and after a second of panic, you began to laugh, too. 

“I seriously don’t understand why you don’t want to do that, it’s fuuuunnnn,” she said, drawing out the last word. 

“I’ve told you before, thief, I don’t like heights,” you said, using her nickname. He rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. She gathered herself up and then turned, still sitting on the counter, to face Hardison. You took a step forward to rejoin the team. Glancing around, you saw Eliot giving you a look. You rolled your eyes at him with a smirk to let him know everything was ok. 

* * *

The entire con you were on edge. The look Eliot had given you made you uncomfortable, as if he knew something. Finally, while on a stakeout, Eliot removed his ear bud and gestured for you to do the same. Cautiously, you followed his lead. 

“This morning,” he said, letting you know that your actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. He said it as if it were a prompt that he wanted you to finish. You carefully looked over at him. 

“What about this morning?” You asked, deciding that playing dumb would be easier than telling him the truth. 

“When Parker came down from the ceiling, you usually cover your face, but you covered your stomach, what’s goin’ on?” You bit your lip anxiously.

“I wasn’t going to tell you until I knew for sure…” You started, practically speaking in a whisper. You knew Eliot could still hear you, though. “But…” You couldn’t get the words to come out of your mouth, but you said enough. Eliot’s eyes softened to surprise as you said what he was thinking, without saying it. 

“You’re pregnant,” he said, a smile beginning to curl up on his face, “We’re going to have a baby,” he said, laughing. You felt a huge weight come off your shoulders.

“What’s this ‘we’ business you’re talking about? Who’s to say it’s not yours?” You asked, playfully, both of you knowing full well that it was. He began to laugh and kissed you fully. 

“We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered before putting his com back in, as if he almost didn’t believe it. If you were honest, you almost didn’t believe it yourself.


	23. Who Should Take the Keyes from Parker

Eliot/Parker/Hardison (OT3)

\--

“I’ll drive!” Parker bounded up from behind Eliot and Hardison and snatched the keys out of Eliot’s hand. 

“What the –“ They both turned and watched her run towards the car before they tore off after her. Eliot got there first and quickly wrestled the keys from her hand. “You’re not driving,” he said, flipping stray hairs out of his face. 

“Why not?” Parker was pouting as she walked around to the passenger side door. She refused to look at either man for two straight days. Eliot gave her a look and she huffed before getting into the passenger side. Hardison caught up a few seconds later. Once he reached the car, he leaned over, trying to catch his breath. When he had, he stood up and held out his hand to Eliot.

“Nah, man, I caught her, I get to drive,” Eliot said, climbing into the driver’s seat. 

“C’mon, you got to drive last time, my turn,” Hardison parried, still a little winded. 

“Maybe next time,” Eliot answered, slipping the keys into the ignition and starting the car. Hardison rolled his eyes and got into the back seat. 

* * *

Parker was making it a habit of stealing the keys to the car. She loved to drive, even though she wasn’t very good at it. The boys took to hiding it in different places, which only made her more inclined to search for them. It got to be so common, she would sneak up behind them and either Eliot or Hardison, whomever had the keys at the time, would instinctively hold them up so she couldn’t reach them. Finally, Parker found where they had been hiding the keys and, staying true to character, she stole them. 

* * *

“Where’d you hide them last?” Hardison asked Eliot, pulling up the cushions from the couch. 

“I didn’t have them last, you did!” Eliot shot back as he dug through the cabinets. Parker sat just out of sight watching them tear apart the back room of the Brew Pub. After several more minutes of searching, the boys stopped and stared at each other. 

“Hell, nah, man I’m not doing it.”  
“She’s your girlfriend!”  

“Last time, she pouted and wouldn’t talk for two days, I’m not being the cause of that! Nate’ll kill me.” Parker smiled. She liked seeing them fight, at least of a little while. She watched them bicker for a couple more minutes before striding in confidently holding the keys above her head. The stopped as soon as she walked in. 

“Hey, Parker,” Eliot said, his eyes flickering from her face to the keys.

“Hey, babe,” Hardison said at the same time Eliot was addressing her. 

“Thought you guys might be looking for these. They were over there,” Parker said, nodding her head in a nondescript location before tossing them in the space between the boys. Hardison and Eliot scrambled to both catch the keys and stop the other from doing so. She smiled to herself as she walked out towards the car. She was ok not driving if it meant the two would be so entertaining.


	24. Eliot Scaring the Reader

Eliot/Reader

\--

You opened your eyes to a pitch-black room. You fumbled around for your phone and nearly blinded yourself by checking the display for the time. 2:57. You flopped back onto your bed. Why were you awake? And where the hell was Eliot? You felt the cool, empty place where your boyfriend was usually asleep at this time of night. Then you heard what had woken you up. A crash emanating from the other side of your bedroom door. You froze. Eliot had told you what he did for a living, and you knew that with a job like his, you contract a lot of enemies. Fearing the worst, you snapped out of your terrified phase and reached down under the bed, grabbing a wooden baseball bat. You weren’t nearly as well versed in fighting as Eliot, but you had hit your high school’s record home run, so you were pretty sure you just needed a baseball bat. At least that is what you had said to convince Eliot that you didn’t need to take time out of your day to have someone teach you self-defense. Now, sitting in a dark room, being separated from a potentially violent person by only a two-inch think piece of wood, you carefully climbed out of bed and slowly inched your way to the door. 

There it was again. Another crash. You jumped. Then you reached forward and pulled the door slightly open, letting it swing the rest of the way and held your bat at the ready. No one was in the hallway, so you slowly edged your way out. Again, another crash. You could now tell it was coming from the kitchen. You reached the edge of the hallway, just before the kitchen. You pushed the door open and held your bat up high, ready to pound someone’s face in. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A very tired and confused Eliot yelled as you just barely missed him with your bat. You were squinting at the sudden change of light, letting your bat rest on the floor as you realized where the crashes were coming from. Eliot had knocked over a stack of cups in the cabinet, which subsequently began to knock over other things. He had tried to stop everything from falling out of the cabinet, but it only delayed the inevitable. With your last ninja-like movement, you had made him drop the remaining dishes. You were both breathing heavily.

“What the hell were you doing, you scared me half to death!” You cried, both tired and irritated that he had been so clumsy and woken you up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to knock everything out of the cabinet, babe, look, go back to bed I’ll be there in a…” he looked around at the pile of dishes now spread across the floor. You sighed, but a hint of a smile had crept onto your face.

“Just come to bed, we’ll deal with this in morning,” you said as you took his hand and led him back into the darkened hallway and then back into the bedroom. You snuggled up to him.

“I still hate you for scaring me like that,” you said as you fell asleep. You heard him chuckle, and then you were unconscious.


	25. Olympic Competition

Eliot/Reader

\--

“I’m not having this debate with you,” Eliot said firmly.

“That’s just because you know I’m right,” you retaliated from across the couch. 

“Whatcha fighting about?” Parker asked as she tossed herself gently onto the couch between you two. 

“I said I could probably beat him in an agility test; he refuses to counter with anything other than ‘no’,” you said in a huff. 

“We could always test it out,” Parker said, as if she was surprised this idea hadn’t come to either of you sooner, “I could make like an obstacle course, that way neither of you has the advantage. And the one who finishes it in the fastest time wins!” You looked over at Eliot. He looked at you. You both silently nodded. 

“That’s a pretty good idea, Parker,” You said with a smirk. Eliot rolled his eyes.

* * *

“It’s done!” Parker said, bounding in from the back door of the Brew Pub. You and Eliot looked up. 

“What’s done?” 

“The obstacle course. We’ll call it the ‘Leverage Olympics’. That sounds pretty cool, right?” You glanced over at Eliot who was just as confused as you were. “You guys were fighting over who was the best, so I decided to make something to help you figure out the truth.” She said it as if it were obvious. Almost simultaneously, you and Eliot remembered your conversation from the previous week. You shrugged and picked yourself up off the couch. Eliot followed you over to Parker who led you to the back room. Nate had given you all the day off, but the food was good at the Brew Pub, and it was really more a force of habit at this point. Parker pushed open the door and you both marveled at how much work had been put into the course. There was a laser simulation (courtesy of Hardison who was currently sequestered off in his work space), a wall climb, a ventilation shaft replica, and a few other crazy obstacles. You looked over at Eliot with a mildly confused look. He was making the same face. 

“Ok, so Eliot should go first,” you said, stepping back to give Eliot more room. He glared at you but stepped forward. Parker explained to him which parts of the course to do first. 

Eliot was surprisingly agile when it came to the laser light show – it took him a bit longer than it would have taken Parker, but he still got through. He easily passed the wall climb, but then he got stuck in the ventilation shaft. Parker helped him out, laughing as she did so. He was red in the face, but he blamed it on the fact that he was stuck rather than embarrassment.

You had been watching and training with Parker for a long time, so you got through all the obstacles fairly easily. Eliot rolled his eyes and was about to protest when Parker stood up.

“Ok, so Eliot only got partial points because he didn’t finish…but he did the wall climb faster so he gets some extra points…” she paused, thinking, then scribbled down something on a piece of paper. “Onto the next event!” She cried before marching out the back door. You both shrugged and followed her.  

The day consisted of different obstacles that Parker had set up (with some help from Hardison). It was surprisingly well matched, and by the end of the day, you were both tied with obstacles that you could and couldn’t do. Finally, it was the last one. Parker took you to the roof where she had set up what looked like a twisted jungle gym. At the end, a zip line went across to the next building. You looked over at Eliot. He looked over at you. There was no way both of you could maneuver the jungle gym and then have enough strength for the zip line. You held out your hand.

“Truce?” You asked, hoping he would take it so you wouldn’t have to hurt yourself on this last event. He grabbed your hand.

“Truce.” 

“Thanks for the ‘Leverage Olympics’, Parker!” You said as you both descended from the roof. She was disappointed you hadn’t even tried her easiest event. She quickly maneuvered the jungle gym and then jumped onto the zip line and sailed through the sky to the next building, whooping the entire time.  _It wasn’t really that hard_ , Parker thought as she left the roof of the opposite building.


	26. Eliot Joining you in Singing

Eliot/Reader

\--

Eliot went to work pretty early in the morning and typically came back pretty late, so you usually had the house to yourself. His ‘job’ made enough money so you didn’t have to work, but you did some freelancing on the side to keep you busy. For some reason, today you felt like cleaning. So you shoved your ear buds in your ears and pressed play. Because the likelihood of Eliot coming home in the middle of the day was so low, you sang out loud, cranking the music up so you couldn’t hear yourself singing what you were sure was out of tune. 

You ended up cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming the bedroom and living room. You found three shirts you swear had gotten up and walked away. You organized the bookshelf alphabetically. Currently, you were working on the previous night’s and this morning’s dishes. Occasionally using the sponge as a microphone, you danced around, putting dry dishes away and washing the dirty ones. You held out the last note longer than the other ones as the song faded. For half a second everything was fine, and then you realized there was a harmony. You felt your stomach drop as you ripped the ear buds from your ears and spun around. Eliot was leaning against the counter, smiling. As soon as you recognized who he was, you felt yourself blush. 

“Why are you home so early?” You asked, trying to deflect from the obvious situation at hand. 

“Simple con, not much for me to do, Nate sent me home early,” he said, still smiling, “Didn’t know you could sing, babe.” You felt your entire face turn red. He was one to talk. 

Several months previously, the Brew Pub had held a karaoke night and Hardison had made Eliot get up and sing. To your surprise, his voice was like liquid gold. He sounded amazing. In the year you had been dating not once had he mentioned his talent. 

“That’s cause I can’t.” You said, not sure how to respond. He chuckled and sauntered over to you, lifting your chin with one finger. 

“That’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” One thing that you loved about Eliot was that when he smiled, truly smiled, his whole face smiled, too. And now, you were staring into the brightest smiling face you’d ever seen on Eliot. And then he turned away and walked into the bedroom. Thoroughly confused, you started to follow him, but he emerged a minute later with his acoustic guitar and gently took you by the elbow to the living room, sitting you down on the couch. 

And that was how you spent the rest of your night, Eliot playing and harmonizing while you sang. All in all, you were glad he’d walked in on you. If he hadn’t you might not have ever had such a nice, simple, fun night together.


	27. Eliot being Sweet

Eliot/Reader

\--

You awoke to a stabbing pain that made you cry out. Eliot, who had been sleeping seconds before, sat up and immediately tried to figure out what was hurting you. It took him a second, but he finally realized it was cramps. He squeezed your arm reassuringly as you curled up in a tiny ball on the bed. He got up and rubbed his eyes, then got a heating pad and put it in the microwave for a minute. He brought it back to the bed and handed it to you. You whimpered, but took it. He also set two ibuprofens and a glass of water down on the nightstand next to you. He held your hand for a second, giving it a small squeeze. He held your hand until you gave a small squeeze in return, showing that you really were, for the most part, ok. Then he went into the kitchen to make you your favorite breakfast. After a minute, you got enough strength to reach over and take the ibuprofens and the glass of water. 

About fifteen minutes later, the medicine began to kick in, and you slowly made your way to the bathroom to shower. Once you were finished, you slipped on some sweatpants and one of Eliot’s sweatshirts before heading to the kitchen. Eliot gave you a warm smile as you sat down at the island counter. You just looked back at him, tired. He set a plate down in front of you and you thanked him before digging in. It was your favorite, and you greatly appreciated his attention to detail. 

“Feelin’ better, babe?” He asked gently. You gave him a look, which told him that you were most certainly not feeling good. 

When you were done with breakfast, he took your plate and put it in the sink to be cleaned later, and then he picked you up, bridal style, and carried you to the couch. You snuggled into him, but he laid you down. You moaned, irritated that he had taken away his warmth. But he returned minutes later with a fuzzy blanket, and he wrapped it around the both of you as he pulled you in close. You snuggled up close to him and he turned the TV on and you slowly fell asleep.

* * *

When he first awoke, his first thought was that you’d been injured; that you were hurt and he needed to hurt someone in return. But once he was fully awake, he realized you were going to be ok. He made sure you were ok before grabbing the essentials: a heating pad, pain meds and a glass of water. He then headed to the kitchen to make you your favorite breakfast. He loved making you feel better, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit he was a little afraid of you, when you were on your period. You could easily be angered, especially on the first day. After a while, he heard the shower turn on, and he knew you were feeling at least a little better. He wasn’t surprised when he saw you walk out in sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts. He silently handed you your breakfast. He smiled when you thanked him; glad to see you were somewhat back to normal. When you were done, he took your plate and put it into the sink. Then he made a decision. He walked over and picked you up, loving how you curled up against his chest. He almost didn’t set you down, but he knew you’d be more comfortable with a blanket. He almost picked you up again when you moaned, but he walked over and got a fluffy blanket, wrapping you up in it before lying down on the couch with you. 

Eliot knew he would eventually have to get up and change the bed sheets; he knew you’d probably bled through them, but right now, right now he was totally fine with just laying on the couch with you, making you feel warm, making you feel safe.


	28. Eliot not knowing what to do about his feelings for you

Eliot/Reader

\--

He first noticed it when you accidently brushed his hand when you both went to grab the salt at dinner. You laughed lightly and handed it to him. He smiled back at you, but he never looked at you the same way again. 

The next time was during a con. A bullet had almost hit you and he pulled you back behind a wall. You were face-to-face, inches apart. You smiled. 

“Thanks, babe,” you said. Something in him fluttered. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He smiled back at you and he began to lecture you on being careful before you pushed yourself away from him and ran across the open area to the other side. The last time he had felt like this, he was with Aimee. Then another round of bullets came from the hallway and he was ripped out of his thoughts and back into the con. 

* * *

“Is there something on their back?” Hardison asked one day when everyone was just hanging around the Brew Pub. Eliot almost jumped, but he stopped himself. 

“Wha - no I was just – shut up.” Hardison was smiling. Eliot glared back.

* * *

“You know, Eliot, you could just talk to them,” Sophie said, coming up behind Eliot. He was once again staring at you. You were laughing at something Parker had said. “It really is that obvious, darling,” she said in response to his confused look. “Just talk. That’s all you have to do. Buy them coffee, go to dinner, do something so we don’t all have to deal with the palpable sexual tension between you two.” She sounded exasperated, but also a little like she was teasing. 

* * *

“So, hi.” Eliot said, walking up to you one day.

“Hi yourself, what’s up?” You asked, noticing Eliot acting a little strange. Maybe he was getting sick. 

“It’s pretty early, do you, uh, um, want to get coffee or somethin’?” He was fidgeting with his hands, looking down. It wasn’t usually this hard for him to chat people up, but with you, it was different. 

“Sure, like right now?” You said, “Should I see if Hardison or Parker wants anything?” You asked, pointing behind you where the two were sitting. 

“Oh no, I meant like, just us,” he said frantically. You never thought you’d hear Eliot so flustered. You laughed.

“Ok, just us, let’s go.” You raised an eyebrow suggestively and took his arm, leading him out the Brew Pub. It took two more coffee dates before you realized they were actually dates. 

“Wait so you like me?” You asked, incredulously.

“Well, yeah –“ 

“And you’ve been flirting with me?” 

“For a while now, but thanks for noticing,” he said, smirking a little bit. You punched his shoulder.

“You should know by now that if you really wanted to flirt with me, you really should have been more obvious,” you said, laughing. Eliot smiled along with you, rolling his eyes. You were particularly oblivious when it came to romantic engagements.


	29. Harry Potter AU

Eliot/Parker/Hardison (OT3)

\--

Alec sat in the carriage compartment by himself. He sat with his back to the window stretched out across the seat. He was trying to take a nap before they got to the school, just to calm his nerves. He was almost asleep when he was jolted awake by a loud noise. He practically jumped up, only to see that his compartment door had slid open and two faces peered in. A young blonde girl strode into the compartment taking a seat opposite of him. The taller kid with the long hair stood just inside the door, eyeing Alec before taking a seat next to the blonde. 

“I’m Parker. This is Eliot.” She held out a hand, and Alec cautiously took it. 

“Hey.” 

“I assume you’re a first year, too?” She asked, settling in. Alec quickly began sitting up as he realized these kids weren’t just passing through. He nodded. Eliot didn’t say anything; he just glanced around the cart.

“So what’s your name?” 

“Alec Hardison.” 

“Nice to meetcha, what house do you want?” She fired off questions as if she was taking a survey.

“Um, I, uh…” 

“Lay off, you’re scaring ‘em.” It was the first thing Eliot had said anything. “Any of your family ever come here?” He asked casually. Alec shook his head; he could feel a blush creeping up from his neck. It was obvious that Eliot was trying to politely ask if he was a muggleborn or not. 

“Yeah, I’m the same way.” Parker added. She had taken a leaf of out Alec’s book and was now leaning against the wall, occupying half the seat. Eliot still sat up straight. They talked for the rest of the train ride. Well, Parker talked, Alec answered, mostly, and Eliot nodded or shook his head when it was appropriate. He would also cut Parker off if she asked a question too personal, or went a little too far. 

* * *

Before they knew it, they were all being ushered into the Great Hall. Alec was glad he had at least a couple friends because the vastness of the Hall was intimidating. One by one, they called name after name until they got to ‘H’. 

“Alec Hardison.” He could feel the blush rising to his neck as he walked up to the stool, which held the raggedy old hat. Practically before it had even been set on his head, the hat yelled, “RAVENCLAW” and the table on the right closest to the middle stood up and clapped. He was ushered over and sat down next to people he didn’t know. He glanced over at Eliot and Parker. Parker was grinning as if she’d just won a million galleons. She gave him two thumbs up. A little while later, Parker’s name was called and she strode up confidently. The hat sat on her head for a minute, but it eventually called out, “SLYTHERIN” and she was ushered over to the table next to Alec’s. His heart sank. He wasn’t in the same house. Finally, it was Eliot’s turn. The hat once again sat silent for a minute before calling out “HUFFELPUFF”. Again, Alec’s eyes followed Eliot to the table on the other side of his. Alec wasn’t great at making friends and the fact that the friends that he had made weren’t in his house just made him upset. 

* * *

The first weekend, the three of them met up. 

“So how was your first week?” Parker asked, slinging her arms around Eliot and Alec’s necks. Eliot smirked.

“It was fine. Nice having herbology and DADA together,” he remarked. Alec smiled, glad that his friendship wasn’t just a one-sided relationship. 

“Yeah, I’m glad we have  _some_  classes together. Kinda sucks that we can’t have a class all together, but whaddyagonnado?” She said the last six words as if they were one, making Alec laugh. 

“At least we get to spend free time together!” Parker said, making both boys smile. Alec sighed, looking over the side of the bridge at the grounds. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.


	30. Eliot and Parker visiting her Brother's Grave

Eliot/Parker

\--

Parker hadn’t told anyone where she was going. She didn’t really like to process feelings, but after the fake psychic and Hardison almost being buried alive, she felt as if she had an obligation to see him again. So she jumped in her car and raced back to him. She didn’t really do much, just sat there, mostly, staring at his name, engraved in the rock. There were flowers in a vase at the base of grave, and she added one in. That was all she could steal. 

When she heard another car approaching, she quickly wiped her eyes and looked around to see who was approaching. It was a silver truck. She turned back around. She heard the truck stop right behind her car. The door opened, then slammed shut and she heard heavy footsteps coming towards her. Then a hand softly resting on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Eliot, looking a little worried. She put her own hand on his and then stood up, wiping her eyes again, as the tears kept falling. She let him put his arm around her waist and pull her in tight. It was then that she let all of her walls down. She began to sob into his chest, feeling safe as he gently squeezed her. 

“Hey, shh, I’m right here,” he said, rubbing her back. Neither Eliot nor Parker particularly enjoyed physical contact. Both for similar reasons, though neither talked about it because, surprise, they both hated talking about emotions as well. Parker liked pretending she was happy all the time to drown out the feelings of sadness. Eliot liked to pretend he was mad all the time to drown out the feelings of sadness and guilt. They were two peas in one very emotional pod. 

Once Parker had regained her composure, she pulled back slightly. Eliot felt his stomach drop, enjoying the feeling of protecting her; the feeling of having her so close. But he let her go. Her eyes zeroed in on a bunch of flowers Eliot had in his hand. It was almost as if he hadn’t realized they were there before, and he quickly held them out for her to take, which she did, though with a quizzical expression on her tear-stained face. 

“Usually, you – you put the – in the –“ He sighed, taking the flowers from her and putting them in the vase along with the others. She gave him a watery smile. He put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him. After a while, he led her back to his car. They’d come back and get her car eventually, but right now, all she needed was to be with a kindred spirit; someone who understood what she was going through. And right now, that was Eliot.


	31. Being save in a bar by Eliot and Hardison

You were just going to the bar to get a drink. It had been a long day, and you really needed one. That’s where you met him. He bought your drink and chatted you up. You weren’t really sure if it was the booze or reality, but you seemed to be falling for this beautiful stranger. He bought you another drink, and something behind you made a loud noise. It was just another table, a little too tipsy. Laughing it off, you turned back and took a sip of your drink. 

All they were there to do was locate and observe the club owner. For some reason, however, he wasn’t in the club. Eliot and Hardison had searched every inch of the place and there was no sign of him. They met back up by the bar and confirmed that he was definitely not there. Something made Hardison’s eyes narrow. Eliot quickly turned in the direction that he was staring. There he saw a beautiful blonde being chatted up by what looked like a cleaned up frat boy. 

“I just saw that guy slip something into their drink,” Hardison said, his voice low with anger. Both men were naturally protective, especially for those who needed it. Eliot’s eyes narrowed with Hardison’s and they made their way over to you.

Both of them together made for a very terrifying image, which is what the frat boy turned around to. He jumped. 

“What were you planning on doing, eh?” Hardison asked as Eliot gave him a death glare. He sputtered before both Hardison and Eliot were distracted by you falling off of your chair. You were woozy and then you hit your head on your way to the floor, making you black out for a second. When you woke up, two beautiful men were standing above you. Well, four, no, six, if you counted their identical twins. You blinked quickly and realized there really were only two men there. They both looked extremely concerned. 

“I’m…fine…” you slurred as you tried to get up, but your vision swirled and you laid back down. Eliot helped you up into a sitting position before carefully raising you to a shaky stand. With an arm around Eliot and an arm around Alec, they both carefully led you out the door. Hardison found your wallet, which had your address on it. They helped you into the car, and you quickly fell asleep. 

You suddenly felt a gentle, yet firm shake and you were awake. The same men from the bar were waking you up and helping you into your apartment. Then you blacked out.

* * *

The next morning, you found yourself in the same clothes you had been in the previous night. You were lying on top of the covers on your bed. You quickly sat up and tried to stand before your vision swirled and you sat back down. You noticed a small business card sitting next to your phone on your night stand that you hadn’t noticed before. It said “Leverage Consulting” in fancy script. On the back were two numbers. The names “Eliot” and “Alec” were next to each one. There was also a small note. “If you want to know what happened last night – don’t worry, nothing bad,” in two sets of handwriting, as if the second author thought the first was being too ominous. You tried to think back to what had happened the previous night, but you had nothing. You felt an enormous welt on the side of your head and figured you’d fallen. Slowly getting up from the bed, you checked your front door. Still locked. Finally, you picked up the card and dialed the first number into the keypad. While you were a little nervous to learn about what you had done, you still wanted to know.


	32. Eliot pretending to be your boyfriend

Eliot/Reader

\-- 

You were pissed. He had been the perfect guy, at least on paper. Or, well, his profile. You had been out of the dating game for a while, so you thought you’d try online dating. You had matched with what seemed like the perfect guy, before he stood you up three times, each coming up with a horrible mistake for an excuse. This was the last straw. You walked up to the bar and ordered a shot, knowing you needed the booze to calm you down. After that, you ordered your favorite mixed drink and began sipping at it. A few minutes later, a young-ish guy sat down next to you. A little irritated, you kept your gaze focused on either your phone or your drink.

“What’s such a pretty girl like you doin’ without a man next to her?” He asked finally. You glanced over at him, showing that you didn’t want to talk. “Look, sweetheart, I could really show you a good time,” he said as he placed his hand on your thigh. You tried to move your leg out from his grasp, but he only held on tighter. You felt your fight or flight response begin to kick in as this creepy guy continued to hit on you. At this point, you couldn’t really call it a conversation, because you had said nothing. 

“I have a boyfriend,” you blurted out suddenly, and he squeezed your thigh uncomfortably tight.

“Don’t worry darlin’, I’m sure he won’t mind if I take you for a spin.” He grinned and leaned in, but you leaned away.

“I have a boyfriend,” you said again, your voice a little shaky this time. The man looked around.

“Don’t look like you gotta boyfriend, darlin’?” He said, his smile getting wider. You felt your mouth go dry as you figured out where this situation was headed. 

Before you even had time to process, a man quickly came up behind you and slipped his arm around your waist. You almost threw up, but you heard him say, “There you are, sweetheart, I thought you’d gotten lost,” and you knew you were saved. The creepy man next to you quickly recoiled his hand. You noticed that the man who had come up behind you was touching you as little as possible. You smiled, gratefully, as he helped you down from the barstool and grabbed your drink for you, leading you over to a table. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“Are you ok?” The man asked, concern laced in his voice. You looked up and saw the man fully for the first time. He had longer dark brown hair, which you would normally hate on a guy, but this man pulled it off perfectly. His green eyes were full of fear as he tried to check you for signs of injury without having it seem like he was up-downing you. You smiled at him.

“I’m fine, now. Thank you so much,” you said, pushing your drink off to the side. The man’s brow unfurled as you spoke, and you could tell he was truly concerned for your well-being. “Who are you? Some avenging angel, out looking to save girls from creepy guys?” You asked with a laugh. He chuckled at your joke. 

“Nah, just a guy in the right place at the right time,” he glanced down at your hands, which were still shaking on the table, “Name’s Eliot,” he said. You returned his kindness with your own name. 

“Would you mind if we got out of here? I feel like that guy is still staring at me,” you asked after a minute. Without hesitation, Eliot agreed, noticing that the man was, indeed, still staring at you. He helped you up from the booth, and then pulled you close. So close that if you stood on your toes, your lips would touch. 

“I hate to be forward,” he whispered, “But I think I know what might turn that guy off of you.” You chuckled nervously.

“Are you sure? You just met me.”

“I’d never turn down kissing a beautiful woman,” Eliot said, his voice low, “But only if you’re ok with it,” he added, making sure you knew that you could turn the offer down if you wanted. As if you could. To answer his question you stood on your toes, letting your lips touch. They were surprisingly soft, and his kiss was so gentle and kind that you forgot you were in public. That is, until he pulled back, crashing you out of your euphoria. You both blushed a little, but he took you by the waist and led you out of the bar.  _If every date ends like that,_  you thought, _I hope I get stood up more often_. Or, a second date with Eliot. Either would be fine.


	33. Eliot finds you asleep

Eliot/Reader

\--

You always tried really hard to wait up for Eliot, no matter how many times he told you not to. You loved the stern face he’d give you when he finds you usually half asleep in front of the TV, and you especially love when he pretends to be irritated with you. 

It’s obvious that he’s pretending, but you still love that he cares about you. On any normal night, you’d be able to stay up, however you’d had a really long work shift, and you fell asleep in front of the TV several hours before Eliot had gotten home. Once he was, however, he saw the television screen lighting up the couch, and very little movement. When he got home, you would usually sit up quickly, pretending like you hadn’t been on the cusp of falling asleep before he walked in the door. He set his stuff down, hanging his motorcycle keys by the door, and then slipping his shoes off before he walked over to the couch to find you sprawled across it, completely asleep. That made Eliot smile, knowing you were trying to wait up for him. He noticed how tired you must have been, as you hadn’t even taken off your shoes. Eliot chuckled, and easily slipped the shoes off your feet, revealing mismatched socks, a little inside joke between the two of you. That made him smile wider, and he carefully picked you up and carried you into the bedroom. You were still in your everyday clothes, and he half considered changing you into you pajamas while you were asleep, but then you awoke just enough that he could help you into them. Then he carefully picked you up once more, and you nestled yourself into his chest, loving how warm he was. But he set you down into the cold bed, pulling the covers up so you wouldn’t be cold while he finished getting ready. You wanted him to come back, and you groaned, which only made him chuckle. 

You were almost completely asleep again when you felt the bed depress slightly and a warmth radiate from something behind you on the other side of the bed. You rolled over and quickly found yourself being wrapped in the arms of your boyfriend. His strength made you feel warm and safe as you nestled yourself into his chest. You never wanted to leave; you never wanted him to leave. You stayed like that for the rest of the night, falling gently into a deep sleep in the strong arms of a man who loved you.


	34. Eliot comforts Hardison after he's buried alive

Eliot/Hardison

\--

Alec pretended like he was ok. He went around and played off being buried alive as if it wasn’t a huge deal. He wasn’t currently buried alive, so why should he be worried? Eliot knew he was feigning strength. He himself had gone through something similar when he was still working for the government. He knew what happened when people didn’t talk about their trauma. After some careful deliberation, he grabbed Hardison, after they’d finished a con. 

“Hey, El, what’s so important, we’ve got drinks out there,” Hardison said, pointing behind him. 

“Look, man, I know,” Eliot responded. Alec had frozen for a couple of seconds during the con, and Eliot knew why. The whole team knew, but it was as if they were actually buying into the crap Alec was feeding them. 

“I..uh…I don’t know what you’re…uh…what do you mean?” Alec stuttered, proving that Eliot was correct. 

“You still have those nightmares.” Alec’s eyes grew wide. He hadn’t told anyone about those. 

“How the hell do you know about those?” 

“Because…” Eliot hesitated, not sure he was really willing to let the hacker see such a vulnerable part of himself, “Because I’ve had ‘em, too.” Alec’s eyes softened, but he still stared back in disbelief. “Look, man, you’ve gotta talk about it, you can’t just keep playin it off as a joke. I know you’re hurtin inside. I know cause so was I when I got back from my first deployment. You’ve gotta talk about it.” 

“What happens if I don’t?” Eliot hesitated, not sure what to say.

“You’ll end up like me,” he said. 

“Who am I supposed to talk to? Nate? Sophie? Parker? There’s no way I’d tell them about this,” Alec knew Eliot was right, but Eliot knew that Alec was also right. It was easy enough for him to tell Alec to talk about his trauma, but not nearly as easy to do in practice. 

“You can talk to me,” Eliot said finally, deciding that right now, Alec needed a friend, a brother, someone who loved and cared for him. Someone who knew what he was going through. And for the time being, the only person who fit that bill was Eliot. Alec pursed his lips before nodding, accepting the hitter’s suggestion. Of course he would talk to Eliot. He was the only one Alec felt he could confide in about how vulnerable he really felt


	35. Eliot helps you with pregnancy symptoms

Eliot/Reader

\--

It had been three months since you’d found out. Eliot was so happy when you told him, and you were extremely happy as well. That was, until the morning sickness hit. Then mornings became a blur of waking up and running to the bathroom. Eliot, who was an early riser anyway, would get up and hold your hair away from your face. He’d rub your back, telling you that it was all going to be fine. Easy for him to say. 

Next came the mood swings. One minute you’d be laughing at something Eliot said, the next you’d be angry over something stupid. Eliot, who decided early on to do a little research so he wasn’t caught off guard, handled your swings with ease. He didn’t engage, and simple let you rant until you realized you were over exaggerated. 

* * *

Then every part of your body started to hurt. You got intense headaches, making your mood swings worse, your muscles were far more tired than usual, you felt exhausted all the time, and you almost fainted at least once every other day. Eliot convinced you to take some time off of work, which made things slightly better. He himself even told Nate that he had to take a couple of days off to make sure you were ok. 

* * *

When the first pimple showed up, you were horrified. You had spent a lot of time making sure they didn’t come back, but now, now you were fighting your body’s natural hormones, and it looked like this was a battle you were going to lose. You had also gained a little weight, and were starting to feel it. When Eliot asked what was wrong one night, the words just spilled out. You were embarrassed at how emotional you were, but you also didn’t care because Eliot didn’t seem to care. He held you close and whispered all the things he loved about you, which made you feel a little better. 

* * *

Next were the cravings, and boy did they hit hard. Eliot was usually the one to do the shopping, simply because he was also the one who typically cooked. You decided to go with him and pick out what you believed would alleviate your cravings. And that’s how you ended up with five different types of ice cream, fifteen boxes of mac and cheese, and two tubs of yoghurt. Eliot eyed your choices, but he didn’t say anything, knowing that you knew your body better than he did. 

* * *

Eliot helped talk you through what to say to your coworkers once you started to really show. Your mood still swung around, but with his help, you could calm down. He also convinced you to show up at work so he could make the announcement to his friends.

* * *

He was at work when the contractions started. At first, you didn’t really think of them as a big deal, you’d had labor pains the last couple of days, but nothing had come of it. But when they became more and more frequent, you realized that something was off. As fast as humanly possible, you called Eliot. In a panic, you explained what was going on.

“I think my water just broke? I’m freaking out, Eliot, this is too early!” Your voice squeaked, and though he tried to mask it, Eliot was scared, too.

“Don’t worry, babe, just breathe, I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, his voice sounded calm on the surface, but you could hear the tension just below the surface. 

* * *

After two hours of hard labor, you had a 6.5lbs baby girl in your arms. You cried and Eliot couldn’t stop smiling. You thought you saw him wipe away a tear, but you were equally sure he’d deny it if you asked. After a while, you handed your daughter over to her father. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how tired you were, and you began to drift slowly to sleep. You smiled, watching Eliot play with your baby. His smile could light up the whole hospital. You’d never seen Eliot so happy before.


	36. Eliot helps you when you're sick

Eliot/Reader

\--

You woke up with a headache and knew that your day was not going to be good. Once you started to move, you realized how sick you really were. Your muscles ached, your head pounded, and then the coughing started. Making your way to the bathroom, you turned on the light and saw a paled face staring back at you. Under your eyes were dark circles and your nose was bright red. Work was not going to happen today. 

“Hey El, I’m really sorry but I have to cancel tonight. I’m super sick and I don’t want you to get this bug, I hope your day goes well, bye.” You left him a message, knowing that he was probably in the middle of doing something at work. Then you called into work and explained your situation. Thankfully, you worked for an understanding boss who told you not to worry about not coming and sent his hopes for you to get better. You thanked him, then went to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of juice. Then you took down ibuprofen, allergy medication, and cough drops, and then took all of the medicine with the juice. Unwrapping a cough drop, you popped it in your mouth, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on your couch. You turned on the TV to your favorite program and lay there for several hours. 

After a while, you got hungry so you forced yourself to stand up, went to your kitchen and grabbed a can of chicken noodle soup. Once you’d finished as much as you could eat, you set your bowl down on the coffee table. You stared over at the rest of the soup sitting in a pan on the stove. You decided you would just deal with it later and curled back up onto the couch and fell asleep.

* * *

You awoke to the sound of your front door opening. You felt so sick that you almost didn’t even care that there was someone in your apartment. Peeling your eyes open you saw Eliot bending down in front of you.

“Hey darlin’, how ya’ feelin’?” You blinked groggily. 

“What are you doing here, I told you not to come by,” you said, being interrupted by a yawn. 

“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” he answered, smiling as he raised a coffee cup into your line of vision. Your eyes zeroed in on the cup, then switched back to Eliot.

“If I wasn’t sick I would kiss you,” you said, smiling. Eliot chuckled at that, set the cup down on the coffee table and sat down next to you, stretching his arms across the back of the couch. 

“So what are we watchin’ today?” He asked, grabbing the remote. You snuggled up into his chest. 

“I don’t care anymore,” you said, your voice still veiled with sleep. While on one hand, you didn’t want Eliot to get sick, on the other hand, you loved that he didn’t seem to care. You were feeling better already.


	37. Eliot kisses you during a con

Eliot/Reader

\--

The mark practically lived in his club. This, of course, made it extremely difficult to figure out his intentions as the club was very exclusive. Originally, Nate planned on having him and Sophie stake the mark out inside the club, but Hardison kindly reminded him of the club’s exclusivity. Grumbling, Nate finally decided to let up, and Sophie suggested you and Eliot go in together. You hesitated; grifting was not your strong suit. But after a little convincing from Hardison, you agreed to go. 

Unfortunately for you, the clothes you needed to wear to get into the club were low cut and skin-tight. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but Sophie reminded you it was all for the con. You frowned at her, but you stopped grumbling. You were so focused on how irritated you were at Sophie that you didn’t realize Eliot was staring at you, taking you in fully. He eyes jumped to your face as you turned to him.

“Ready?” You asked, your voice laced with irritation. 

“Uh… yeah, let’s go,” he said, and you took his arm as he walked you out. His Charger was freshly waxed and washed. It looked brand new. 

* * *

You and Eliot had easily passed through security and were now milling about around the bar. Neither of you were really drinking, just sipping at your drinks, trying to blend in. You had both gone in as a couple to hopefully decrease the amount of interference by others. 

It was hard to hear Hardison, so you went to the bathroom to hear him better. 

“I think it’s the bass, it’s too loud, it’s interfering with the vibrations that make it so I can hear you. Looks like you guys are going in blind, sorry.”

“And you’re sure there’s nothing you can do?” You didn’t like not having Hardison, Nate, or Sophie talking in your ear, helping you when you needed it. 

“Sorry, if there was, honey I’d tell you,” Hardison said, and you knew he meant it. “Ok, I’ll tell El, over and out.” You stuck your finger in your ear and scraped the ear bud out, slipping it into your pocket. 

Once you’d rejoined Eliot and communicated to him that ear buds were not something that could be used, you both began to people watch, hoping that the mark would show himself soon. 

Hanging around the bar became incredibly boring incredibly fast. You began to focus in on Eliot. The way his jaw clenched when he thought he saw the mark. The way it relaxed when he realized his mistake. Everything about that man made you swoon. You were trying to inconspicuously study his face when he quickly turned around and face you.

“He’s here,” Eliot said. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. 

“Where?” You tried to look around, but Eliot had slipped his arm around your waist, preventing you from doing so. 

“Behind you, about twenty yards away, staring right at you.” It became clear why Eliot didn’t let you turn around. You had both seen pictures of the mark and you both knew his M.O. Your eyes quickly flicked to Eliot’s; you let slip a flash of fear. You felt Eliot’s thumb tracing circles on your back, which didn’t so much calm you down as rile you up more. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked. He was so close. You could barely speak. 

“Yes,” you said shortly. Then he brushed his lips against yours.

“Kiss me.” You brushed your lips against his; enjoying the pang of electricity you felt when they touched. Then you tilted your head and kissed him. It wasn’t a deep kiss, and if you were honest, it was more of a stage kiss than anything else. You were putting on a performance for a mark. Nothing more. You had to keep reminding yourself of this as Eliot kissed you back. After a minute, he pulled back slightly and whispered, “C’mon darlin’, I know you can do better than that.” His deep voice combined with his southern drawl was all you needed. Pushing yourself up onto your toes, you crashed your lips against his, hungrily kissing him as his arms twisted tightly around your waist, you let your arms fall around his neck. You were no longer stage kissing. After another minute had passed, he pulled back. You moaned at the lack of contact, then immediately blushed in embarrassment. You could clearly see Eliot attempting (and failing) to hide his delight. He had gotten you to break during a con. 

“Is he still looking at me?” You asked, trying to change the subject back to the case at hand. You saw Eliot’s eyes go from amused to daggered as his eyes glanced up over your head to where the mark was. 

“He’s lookin’ for someone else.” Eliot smirked. It wasn’t as though he found it funny, but more that he was glad that the mark had gotten the message. 

“Let’s go follow him so we can have  _something_  to tell Nate when we get back,” you said, hiding your face as you dragged Eliot towards the direction you thought the mark had gone.


	38. Eliot in a man bun

Eliot/Reader

\--

You hated grifting. It was really more Sophie’s forte, but there were certain cons that just required someone younger. It wasn’t that Sophie was old; it was just that you fit more naturally in a “hipster” environment than she did. Thankfully, they were sending in Eliot as well – you were always better at grifting when you had someone else with you. He was supposed to pick you up and drive you to the ‘secret’ club you were invited to. A corrupt owner of several public clubs ran it. He would cut everyone’s paycheck to fund these special secret exclusive clubs while raking in millions. He fired a bouncer for seeing what he deemed ‘too much’ and she and her husband had come to Leverage Consulting for what everyone came to you for – payback. 

Eliot was supposed to pick you up at your apartment and then take you to the party. You were constantly checking your watch. He was two minutes late. Grifting always made you nervous – you were more a behind the scenes kind of person, and Eliot being late was not making it any easier. Finally, you saw his very distinctive Charger pull up in front of your building. Grabbing your jacket, you quickly raced down the stair and made it to the front door of your building about the same time Eliot did. 

“Hey, sorry, I saw you pull up,” you said, the words rushing out of your mouth. Without even looking at him, you briskly walked past him and got into the passenger side. 

Eliot was very concerned. He knew you didn’t like grifting and he’d told Sophie not to make you. She didn’t listen. 

“They’re the best one for the part! And you two just naturally look good together. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Eliot didn’t hold the same confidence. He was not reassured by your squirrely behavior at your building, but it was too late to back out now. As causally and calmly as he could, he turned around and got into the driver’s side, restarting his car. 

“Ready?” He asked you. You didn’t look at him, but you nodded. Eliot saw, plain as day, you were most definitely not ready. Taking a deep breath, he began to head to your destination. 

* * *

Neither one of you talked the entire way there. Eliot kept glancing at you to make sure you were ok. You seemed flushed and your eyes looked almost wild. 

Finally you reached the barn that was hosting the party. Eliot had to park far away, as there were many people already there. Eliot stopped you before you could start to walk towards the party, which sounded as though it was already in full effect. You tried to avoid eye contact; Eliot could always tell when you were lying. 

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice seemed to calm you, even if it was only slightly. Your eyes met his, and he saw just how scared you really were. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine, I promise. You know what Sophie taught you, you know what you need to do, just take a breath.” You followed his instructions. His deep, gravely voice seemed to calm you more with each word. It was dark now, and you could barely make out Eliot’s silhouette. He reached around and placed his hand on your waist, and you let him. His closeness making you feel safe, and almost ready to actually grift. 

Once you were in the barn, the lighting didn’t change much. It was still dark, the only light coming from the bar and the laser light shows from the dance floor. Sticking close to Eliot, you felt his grip on your waist tighten only slightly. He was just as nervous as you. 

* * *

It took a while, but you eventually found the mark. You grifted, and once you started, you got a sudden surge of confidence. You sold the con beautifully. You and Eliot stayed at the party for only about an hour after that, and then you both decided you could leave. Once outside, the parking lot was flooded with light. Eliot escorted you back to his car, and you started to once again get in the passenger side, however Eliot was leaning against the roof. You glanced up and stopped what you were doing to mirror his posture. 

“Told ya you could do it,” he whispered. You smirked, and for the first time that night, you looked at him fully. His hair was a bit wispy, but you saw it had all been gathered into one bun on the back of his head. On any normal basis, you hated man-buns. You thought they looked ridiculous on most people, but on Eliot? Well,  _that_  was a different story. How could you have not noticed him earlier? You must have spent more time than usual staring at his head because he cocked it and gave you a curious look. 

“Something wrong, darlin’?” You quickly shook your head, hoping that the orange glow coming from the lights masked your blush. Eliot’s hands reached up to touch his bun, almost as if he had just realized it was there. “Oh, yeah, I just, uh, I thought it might, um, well, I just thought…” it was the first time you had ever seen Eliot Spencer flustered.   
“I like it,” you said shortly before opening the passenger side door and clambering into the car. You really hoped he hadn’t seen your blush, which you were sure was now climbing from your neck all the way across your face. It was the first time you’d ever even insinuated that you were smitten with Eliot. Of course, you had been for a while, but you weren’t going to  _tell_  anyone that. 

Eliot got in the car a second after you did. He didn’t start the car right away.  
“You really like it?” He asked. He was doing a very poor job trying to hide his excitement. Was your opinion really worth that much to him?

“Yeah, it’s cute,” you said, regretting it immediately. You saw a huge smile break out onto his face before he turned to face the front. He turned on the car and began to drive you home. You rested your face on the cool glass, hoping it would calm your face down. While you were focused on making sure you didn’t say anything else stupid, you could have sword you heard Eliot whisper, “Hm. Cute.” Almost as if he was proud he’d done something you enjoyed.

* * *

After that night, you noticed that Eliot began wearing his hair in a bun more often. Every time he did, once you two were alone, you whisper “Cute,” to him. It always made him smile and one time, you swore he blushed.


	39. Cooking while Drunk

Eliot/Reader

\--

Eliot usually made dinner. He was the chef, however he also had a crazy undefined work schedule, so you taught yourself how to cook certain things. Eliot was supposed to be home by 4:30 tonight, however once it was 6:00 and he still wasn’t home, you decided to call him.

“Hey, babe, I’m sorry, we’ve got this…thing, um,” Eliot trailed off. He was always hesitant to tell you exactly what he did for a living. “I don’t think I’m going to be home until late tonight, sorry I forgot to call.” He was still getting used to having someone outside the team who cared about him. 

“It’s fine, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” you chuckled a little, though you actually did mean it. As much as Eliot tried to hide what it was that he did, you found out pretty quickly. You knew it was a dangerous job, but he loved it, and the people he worked with. “I’ll just fend for myself until you get back. Sorry if I fall asleep before you get back,” you said. You both said your goodbyes, and then hung up. You got up and poured yourself a glass of wine. It had just been that kind of day. Then you went into the bedroom and changed into pajamas. You threw on your shorts and one of Eliot’s t-shirts and went back to the kitchen for another glass of wine. 

Grabbing the bottle and your glass, you walked over to the couch and turned the TV onto one of your favorite crime dramas. You began to pour glass after glass, not really paying attention to what time it was, or how much you had actually been drinking. Slowly but surely you became incredibly wasted. Curling up on the couch with a blanket, your stomach suddenly growled, and you remembered you hadn’t had dinner yet. A commercial for a microwavable casserole came on and you felt the sudden urge to cook. 

Without checking the time you began to drunkenly pull out al the ingredients you needed. When you were left to your own devices, you usually made casseroles. It became almost second nature to you, so you could make a mean casserole even when inebriated. Before you started, you took off Eliot’s shirt. You might have been drunk, but you still respected your boyfriend’s things. Not to mention you knew how easily you could get dirty when making a casserole. 

You were almost ready to put the whole thing in the oven when you heard the front door open. Your head snapped up to see who had intruded on your apartment. Once you saw who it was, you remembered you shared the apartment, and bounded over to give Eliot a hug. He held you, and when you leaned back, the look on his face was something between confusion and amusement.

“What’s…goin on darlin’?” He asked, his eyes darting down your body before reconnecting with your own eyes. Quickly looking down, you remembered you had taken his shirt off and was now running around the apartment topless. If you hadn’t been drunk, you might have been embarrassed. 

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t want to get your shirt dirty, wanna help?” Your words slurred slightly, and Eliot raised his eyes past you to the kitchen. “Casserole,” you said, giving and explanation to a question you knew he’d ask. 

“Darlin’ do you know what time it is?” He asked. 

“Nope.”

“It’s 3 in the morning.” That surprised you. You could have sworn it was 9:30 twenty minutes ago. “And you are very drunk.” You rolled your eyes at that. You weren’t  _that_  drunk. But still, you let Eliot lead you to the bedroom where he got you back into his shirt and then into bed; kissing you thoroughly once you were there. He could taste the alcohol on your breath. It made him smile, slightly. He left the room and returned with a water bottle and two ibuprofens. You were already fast asleep when he got back. He switched off the light and carefully climbed into bed with you, enjoying the feeling of you curling into him.


	40. Eliot to the Rescue

Eliot/Reader

\--

You never actually thought he was abusive. He had a temper, sure, and every once in a while he got physical, but everyone gets mad sometimes. And you even thought you deserved it sometimes. 

You were very skilled in the art of makeup, and you had quickly learned how to cover up the cuts and bruises he gave you. The team never even noticed. That is, until one day, when Parker was accidentally hit in the face and got a huge bruise on her forehead. She thought it was cool, but the team needed her to grift, without the bruise.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not that dark, come here, Parker,” you said, motioning for her to walk over to you. You leaned over, grabbed your bag, and produced your makeup kit. Usually, you used it to make them either look younger, older, beautiful, ugly, etc. In about a minute, you had completely covered up the bruise, and it looked as if it hadn’t been there in the first place. Sophie commended you on your obvious superior makeup skills, and you accepted her commendations, though a little embarrassed. 

Eliot, on the other hand, had a very different reaction to your newfound skillset. He watched how quickly and skillfully you painted the makeup onto Parker’s bruise. It was almost like it was second nature. Like you had done it a million times before. He didn’t say anything at the time, he knew you’d probably deny it anyway, and he didn’t want to embarrass you, and he eventually got wrapped up in the con and forgot.

* * *

If you could be objective, you would have seen that he was getting worse. Your boyfriend started drinking more. He got fired from his job without telling you. He started keeping secrets. Whenever you confronted him about any of these things, he would get angry. And violent. You wanted to leave him, but you remembered how it used to be when you first started dating, and you were also afraid of what he might do to you if you tried to leave. 

Eliot noticed your gradual shift from happy-go-lucky to quiet and timid. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew something was up. It wasn’t until he saw you flinch when Nate raised his voice, and again when he raised his arms, that he decided something needed to be done. When the con was finished, he confronted you about your strange behavior. 

“Hey,” he said, sliding up next to you as you poured yourself small tonic water. 

“Hey.” 

“You ok?” 

“I’m fine, you?” It was as if this response was automatic. You didn’t think about what you were saying; you just said what people wanted to hear.

“You aren’t.” This got your attention. You didn’t want to fight with Eliot, so you looked at your watch.

“I gotta go,” you said, grabbing your coat off the back of your chair before heading to the parking lot to get in your car. Eliot followed you. 

“I’m not done,” he called after you.

“I am.” You slipped into the driver’s side of your car. You didn’t realize just how close he was to you until he opened the passenger side door and sat in the seat next to you. 

“I know somethin’s wrong. I can see it.” 

“You don’t know anything.” You started your car, feeling the tears begin to build behind your eyes. 

“I know eight months ago you wouldn’t have flinched at Nate rasin’ his voice.” That stopped you. You hadn’t even realized you had done that. It was just instinct. You had learned that, with raised voices too often came blows, and your body just reacted the way it had been taught. You felt the tears begin to fall. Fine. If Eliot wanted you to drive him to your apartment, then that’s exactly what you would do. You were tired and didn’t want to hear what he had to say, so you started driving. He didn’t say anything the whole drive. 

You arrived at your apartment at the same time as your boyfriend. 

“Hey babe,” you said as you exited the car. Eliot stayed inside. Your boyfriend saw him, and then he gave you a look. You took an involuntary step back. You knew that look. He approached you and got right in your face. 

“Who the hell is that?” He whispered, pointing back to Eliot. He had ahold of the front of your shirt. You could smell the booze on him like cologne. You had brought a strange guy back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. It looked bad. Your fault.  

“Just a friend, I had to grab something and then I was taking him home, his car broke down,” you sputtered out, knowing that lying was the last thing you should have been doing. Your boyfriend let go of your shirt, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew the chances of him actually hitting you in front of a witness were low, but it was always a possibility. You let your guard down. Your fault. He took a step back, then, before you could even react, he pulled his arm back and swung full force, knocking you backwards. You stumbled back and suddenly felt lightheaded. You fell to the ground. The last thing you remembered was the sharp, splitting pain on your cheek and the warm liquid pouring out of it. 

* * *

You woke up in a hospital. It was dark, but there were a ton of beeping machines everywhere. It wasn’t loud, but it was annoying enough to keep you from going back to sleep. Finally, you gave up and tried to take stock of the room. The door was closed, but through a window you could see the brightly lit and sterile hallways riddled with nurses and doctors bustling from one station to the next. Then you turned your attention to your immediate surroundings. On one side was the beeping and flashing monitors. It told you something, you thought one of them was a heart monitor, but you hated science and hadn’t studied medicine when you went to college, and had no idea what the other things were monitoring. On your other side was Eliot. He was curled up in a chair, sleeping. He had a book resting on his chest, mostly finished. He was still wearing the same clothes he had been when he got into your car back at the Brew Pub. Suddenly, as if you had said something, he woke up, knocking the book off of its precarious place on his chest. He lost his page, but he didn’t care. He noticed the fact that you were awake and rushed over to your side. 

“Hey, darlin’. Gave us a scare, there. You ok?” His voice was deep and calming, but his face was riddled with concern. 

“M’k,” you said, sure the drugs were messing with your ability to form words. 

“You got a minor concussion, you needed a couple of stitches, but overall, you’ll be fine,” he shifted uncomfortably, “You were out for a long time, though,” he added. 

“Where’s Alex?” You asked, looking around for your boyfriend. You saw Eliot’s eyes go dark.

“He couldn’t make it.” Was all he said. 

“Eliot,” you said, your tone was worried. He swallowed, sighed, and then told you what happened.

After Alex had hit you, Eliot leapt out of the car. Alex had tried to fight Eliot, but, as you could predict, it was a battle Alex was going to lose. Eliot was furious that he had hurt you, and he quickly rushed to your aid after subduing your boyfriend. Alex was taken into custody by police for assault. You started to cry. Eliot pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed into his chest. You weren’t really sure why you were crying. It could have been for a number of reasons. Alex was going to jail. You were in the hospital. You could finally leave your abusive boyfriend. You wanted to leave your boyfriend. 

Eliot stayed with you until you were discharged. You stayed at his apartment while you looked for another one to move into. Eliot helped you get a storage unit and move all of your things from the apartment you had shared with your now ex-boyfriend into the unit. Every step of the way, Eliot was there, holding your hand, letting you cry. He might have been angry with you for not telling him about Alex, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. He knew you were going through a lot. Everyday he’d ask if there was anything he could do for you. After a couple of days, you realized he was already doing the only thing you needed – he was there for you when you needed him most.


	41. Eliot and Hardison throw Sophie a baby shower

Sophie had finally made her announcement to Nate in front of the whole crew. The rest of them knew, and had known for at least a week. Of course, Nate was happy, and everyone acted as though they were surprised. Except for Parker, who wasn’t particularly good at that. After they had all said congratulations, they got on with the con, after Nate told Sophie she’d be on the sidelines for a while. 

Eliot and Hardison got stuck together, again. 

“Look, man, it could just be like, a small thing. She shouldn’t know about it, and we could, like invite her mom or something.” Hardison was arguing with Eliot, which wasn’t a surprise. Hardison had muted their mics so that Sophie couldn’t hear them. She was told not to be on coms, but knowing her, she didn’t listen. 

“A small thing? You know how many friends Sophie has? Like a million. I ain’t cookin for that many people, Hardison.” 

“You won’t have to, I promise.” Eliot rolled his eyes, knowing he’d be cooking for as many people showed up to the damn baby shower, regardless of Hardison’s reassurances. 

* * *

It took some doing, but eventually they got in contact with a few of Sophie’s friends and invited them to the shower. Hardison dragged Parker out to buy decorations while Eliot went out to gather ingredients. They all made excuses to both Nate and Sophie so that they wouldn’t suspect anything. Hardison searched high and low, but she still couldn’t find Sophie’s mom, or any parent or family whatsoever. He checked under her real name and a few of her aliases. The problem was, she only told them her real first name, not her real last name, so Hardison was in even more of a pickle. He eventually gave up, but not because he wanted to, it was because Eliot told him he had other things to do than search the entire Earth for Sophie’s mom. So he moved onto decorations. 

“Can’t be blue or pink, babe, we don’t know if the baby’s gonna be a boy or a girl.” 

“Why would it matter?” She asked, as she dropped in some lavender napkins. 

“I don’t know, I guess pink means you’re having a girl and blue means you’re having a boy, but Sophie doesn’t want to know.” He set some pale green cups into the cart next to the napkins. 

“Does Eliot know we’re getting this stuff?” She asked as she held up some crazy looking decorations. 

“Yeah, he’s gathering food to prepare. Babe, put that down before you break it.” Parker was fiddling with a giant blue letter M. She knocked it off the shelf and one of the legs broke off. She quickly glanced around and just carefully set it back on the shelf. No one would ever know. 

* * *

Finally, the day came. Hardison had closed the Brew Pub so they could have the shower there. He and Parker had decorated the whole restaurant with pastels. The tablecloths were yellow and purple, the cups were green, and the crepe paper was orange. It didn’t look particularly coordinated, but given the short time they threw it together, it looked pretty good. People began showing up early. Hardison made sure everyone could easily mill about, Eliot made sure everyone was fed, and Parker made sure everyone was there.

The boys hadn’t told Sophie about this party, they wanted it to be a surprise. So after about thirty minutes of people showing up and just talking to each other, Nate arrived with Sophie. He helped Sophie into the pub and she gasped. All (or at least most) of her friends were there. They all yelled ‘Surprise!’ and Tara was there at the front to give her a hug. By the time she’d found Hardison, Eliot, and Parker, she had tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes. She then gave all three of them tight hugs before she was pulled away by another friend to discuss her future career in motherhood.


	42. Bad Memories

Eliot/Reader

\--

It happened so long ago; you’d almost shaken the nightmares away. You’d get one every once in a while, but they were slowly fading away. But, of course, everything had to take a nosedive right, as you were about to reach recovery. 

It was during a con. You and Sophie were grifting; blending into the party to eventually meet the mark. You were both floating around, hanging close to the bar, but every once in a while, one of you would go and look at who was manning the security of the locked door where the mark was running an illegal gambling operation. You were hoping to get inside so you could see how big the operation really was. They changed security guards every ten minutes. You were fine until you walked by and glanced at the fourth security guard. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your breathing became shallow and forced as you walked back over to Sophie, your eyes wide and full of fear. It was him. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” She sounded so far away. You had to get out, that was the only thing you could think of. Somehow you communicated that to Sophie, who quickly helped you out the door. Once you were out of the bar, you lost control of your actions. You turned left and just started walking away. You walked for about two blocks before you couldn’t go any farther and you stopped at an alley. Just inside, you slide down the wall until you were sitting. That’s when the tears began to fall. You were so close to getting better. So close to getting rid of the nightmares. And now, you were re living the worst night of your life in full Technicolor. You knew you were having a panic attack, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

After what felt like years, you felt someone sit down next to you. You jumped and turned to see it was Sophie. She put her arm around you and pulled you into a tight hug. You leaned your head on her shoulder. About ten minutes later, Lucille pulled up. You wiped your eyes and Sophie gave you her hand to help you stand up. You took it and she helped you into the van. You couldn’t look anyone in the eye. 

It was freezing out, but you had still worn a tank top, as you expected the bar to be full of people, and therefore extremely hot. You were shivering now, but you felt a jacket slip over your shoulders as Eliot sat down next to you. His arm snaked around your waist and you leaned your head softly against his shoulder. No one was saying anything. 

* * *

No one talked about your little freak-out at the bar, at least not to your face. Once you got back to the Brew Pub, Eliot sat you down at the bar and got you a drink. He also cooked you a warm meal and made you eat it. Parker and Hardison talked about the case and what they had learned while you ate and drank. Eliot would occasionally chime in with something else he had learned on his own. You tried to pretend that you hadn’t freaked out at the bar, but you couldn’t forget. Nate and Sophie had gone to the back room, and you could hear them talking. After a while they came back. Sophie’s face looked nervous, anxious, and concerned. Nate looked exasperated and the look he gave you was full of…pity? Did they know? Nate poured himself a drink and sent everyone home. Eliot told you he’d drive you, as your hands were still shaking.

* * *

Eliot parked the car on the street in front of your apartment building. He turned the car off and you started to get out, but he started to speak. You knew it was coming, but you still didn’t want to have this conversation with Eliot right now. 

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but what happened? Are you ok?” Your first instinct was to be frustrated, but Eliot was genuinely concerned, so you took a breath. 

“I noticed the security guy, that’s all.” You wanted out; of the car and the conversation. 

“You’ve recognized guys before, what made this one different?” You closed your eyes and furrowed your brow. 

“If… if I tell you, you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone else, ever.” You didn’t want to tell him, but your mouth seemed to be moving without you thinking. 

“Of course.”

“A few years ago… well five years ago, I was bar hopping with some friends. We were all meeting guys, everything was great, and then they all went home and it was just me.” You didn’t want to tell this story, but you continued speaking anyway. “And this guy, he was so sweet and nice, and he was just… well I guess I was drunk and he…slipped me something, and…” You stopped, your voice had gotten progressively more warbled and you felt tears pricking your eyes. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Eliot said, his hand resting softly on yours. You wiped your eyes and smiled. You got out of the car and went inside. 

* * *

That night, you had another nightmare. It was as if the sexual assault had happened that night, it was so vivid. When you woke up, you were covered in sweat. Your mostly asleep brain picked up your phone and called Eliot.

“Are you ok?” Eliot said, the first thing out of his mouth. 

“No,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said before hanging up the phone. 

You sat up on your bed with you head in your hands, crying. Then you heard a knock at the door. Picking up the baseball bat you kept next to your bed, you crept to your front door and looked out the peephole. It was Eliot. You opened the door and let him inside. 

“What can I do?” He asked, his eyes darting around your whole body, expecting to see physical damage. 

“I don’t know,” you said, another bout of tears beginning. He pulled you close, and then led you to the couch and you curled up next to him. He turned on the TV and you both sat and watched infomercials for hours. After a while, you began to notice certain things about Eliot. He had a cut on his cheek that looked new, and his knuckles looked bloody and bruised. You began to play with his hand, trying to think out what happened. He was known for getting into fights, but his hands seemed to have more damage than usual. 

“What happened?” You asked, sleepily. 

“Don’t worry, babe, nothing,” he said, sounding equally tired. 

“Do you want ice?” 

“I’m ok, babe, don’t worry.” You laid your head back down on his chest, and you both fell asleep on the couch curled up against one another; safe. 

* * *

You awoke the next morning to the smell of Eliot’s cooking. Groggily, you sat up, realizing for the first time, that someone (probably Eliot) had gotten a blanket and wrapped you in it. Wearing the blanket as a cape, you went into your kitchen to see what Eliot was up to. 

What you found surprised you. Eliot was cooking, which was normal, but he was also icing his hands. His knuckles to be more precise. 

“Ok, honey, if you’re going to ice them, I want to know what happened.” Eliot turned around, his expression not unlike a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He moved the frying pan with the eggs off of the hot stove and set the ice down. He pulled you into a tight hug. 

“Don’t be mad, but the file was unsealed. He didn’t serve time, he didn’t get in trouble. He needed to pay,” Eliot whispered into the top of your head. Then everything clicked. You began to cry again, and Eliot pulled back to look at your face, wiping away the tears.   
“What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“Nothing. What did I do to deserve you?” You asked, making both of you smile. “I love you.” He kissed you gently before remembering the eggs.


	43. Height Difference

Eliot/Reader

\--

Eliot wasn’t particularly tall. Of course, he would never admit that, but everyone knew. Fortunately, neither were you. Eliot had been with tons of people, some of them taller, some shorter, and he preferred shorter. 

“Hey babe.” He had just gotten back from a job. Thankfully, he wasn’t too torn up. He reached down and you pushed yourself onto your toes to reach his lips. “Want to go out tonight?” 

“We’re at the Brew Pub?” You said, confused. 

“I meant somewhere different,” he said, pulling you toward the door. Rolling your eyes, you let him pull you into the night. Neither of you knew any all-night diners, so you both just wandered around Portland. You leaned against his chest, happy and content just to be with him. It was close to midnight when you found a diner you both liked. You were sat pretty quickly, as no one really ever goes to diners at midnight. There were only three other people there: a guy sitting close to the door, a man sitting by the window on the opposite wall, and a woman and what must have been her daughter sitting at the barstools. You ordered and began talking about the most recent job. 

“Seriously? How the hell did Hardison  _not_  know that?” You laughed. Eliot smiled, loving how happy you were. 

Eventually, two plates were sat down in front of you and you both began eating. Your happiness didn’t last very long, however, when two masked men walked into the diner. They were brandishing guns. You sitting on the side of the booth where you could see the entrance and you saw the men before they even spoke. Eliot turned around just as they began yelling, concerned as your face had dropped and fear had overtaken your eyes. The men began yelling about giving them all the money in the cash register, and you saw a plan begin to form in Eliot’s eyes.

“Ok, babe, stay here, stay down, I love you,” he said, kissing your forehead as he pushed you down on the seat of the booth. You saw him get up, and curiosity overcame you. You began to sit up, just a little. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots ring out. You quickly ducked back under the table as you heard a bullet whiz by your head. Your heart was pounding and you pressed yourself hard down onto the seat beneath you. You didn’t even hear anyone approach the table, but you jumped when you felt a hand on your back. Whipping your head up to see who had touched you, you immediately felt relieved to find Eliot crouched down next to you. 

“You OK, babe?” You leaned your forehead against his and squeezed your eyes shut. He helped you up and you saw that no one had been hurt. You glanced behind you and saw a hole, the size of a bullet in the back of the seat, right above where your head had been. Your hands were shaking, and Eliot held them steady as he helped you up and out of the diner onto the sidewalk. Once outside, you heard the police sirens. He sat you down on the curb and you leaned into him once more. He gave you his jacket, and you put it on, the tips of your fingers just barely reaching the end of the sleeve. You nestled up against him and thanked whatever god was listening that your boyfriend was Eliot Spencer. You also thanked them for making you short, because if you had been even an inch taller, the bullet probably would have hit you. You weren’t often happy about your size, but today was an exception.


	44. Eliot makes you feel better about yourself

Eliot/Reader

\--

Eliot didn’t usually go for girls like you. In fact, when he first asked you out, you thought he was doing it on a dare, or as a joke, but as time went on, you realized that he actually liked you. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but you’d had too many experiences of guys pretending to like you, pretending like they didn’t care about your weight, only to turn around and tell you they were joking, that they didn’t actually like you, that they only dated skinny girls. It was too easy to be jerked around that it wasn’t until your third date with Eliot that you realized he was serious. He fumbled around when you got to your apartment and you feared the worst. He was going to reveal that your three dates had been a sham. He didn’t like you like that – he never liked anyone who was your size. But he surprised you, nervously asking if he could kiss you. Ever since then, you never worried about whether Eliot loved you or not – he made it clear to you every day.

Until one day. You had been doing so well for so long that you had forgotten what it felt like to be insecure. You were just walking down the street when two guys approached you. Fearing the worst, you simply walked by them.

“Hey sexy,” one of the guys said. You tried to walk away but they kept following you.

“Love a girl with curves,  _that’s_  sexy,” the second guy said to the first. They ran up and got in front of you, forcing you to stop.

“C’mon sweetheart, we just want to talk.”

“I’m late to a meeting, excuse me,” you mumbled pushing past them.

“Fine, I’ll go find a woman who isn’t a rude whale!” One of them shouted behind you. You really were late to a meeting, so you swallowed your tears and power walked all the way there, your hands tight around your keys, which were splayed out between your fingers. 

* * *

You had some time after your first meeting so you decided to go shopping; the two catcallers were far out of your mind. You grabbed a couple of cute tops and asked the lady at the changing rooms for a key. She looked you up and down then eyed the blouses. 

“Sure,” she said, and you could see the hesitation in her eyes, “If you need any assistance finding anything in your size, let me know,” she said, unlocking one of the rooms and walking back. You felt like someone had punched you in the gut. You didn’t even try on the shirts; you just sat in the changing room and cried. You remembered the two catcallers from earlier in the day. You remembered the boys in college daring each other to ask you out, the frat boys who asked you out as a prank, the insults thrown at you since you were a kid. Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Eliot. A case had gone late and so he’d pick you up at a later time than usual. That was the last straw. You felt the wall of self-esteem you’d built with Eliot crumble and you walked out of the store to your car and drove home in a daze. Usually you’d get ready and Eliot would take you out to some fancy restaurant he’d heard about. Instead, when you got home, you texted him telling him that you weren’t feeling well and you couldn’t go out tonight anyway. You put on sweatpants and a comfy sweatshirt and flopped onto your couch and turned the TV on. But you couldn’t concentrate. You weren’t even sure what show you were watching, you could only think about what horrible things people had said about you over the years. You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard a knock on the door. You jumped, and your vision was blurry. You quickly wiped away the tears that had rolled down your face and got up to see who had knocked on your door. It was probably someone at the wrong address. You opened the door to find Eliot standing there.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. You furrowed your brow, confused, but you stepped aside to let him in. “I figured since we couldn’t go out, we could stay in,” he said, moving towards the kitchen and unpacking things from the bag he had set down on the counter. 

“Why?” You asked once you had finally found your voice. Eliot stopped chopping vegetables and looked up at you.

“Why what?” You swallowed, afraid to ask him incase you didn’t like the answer. 

“Why me?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. Eliot moved around the counter over to you and pulled you into a tight embrace. 

“What’s goin’ on, babe?” He asked, genuinely concerned, as he thought he’d alleviated your insecurities earlier in your relationship. 

“Why me? You could have anyone in the world, anyone…skinnier, prettier,  _better_ , why me?” You were sobbing into his chest now, and he squeezed you tighter.

“Why you? You’re smart, funny, exciting, and the best part? You’re beautiful. Why you and not anyone else? Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. I love you, because you’re  _you_.” You weren’t completely convinced, but Eliot lifted your chin with one finger and kissed you. “I,” he kissed you again, “Love,” He kissed you again, “You. And only you.” You finally broke away. You didn’t really believe him, but you knew he was trying and that was all that mattered. He sensed your hesitation, though. 

“How ‘bout this,” he said, taking a step back, “I was gonna wait until we were at a fancy restaurant or something, but I can’t wait any longer,” he pulled something out of his pocket and got down on one knee. “Marry me?” Your breath caught in your throat, so all you could do was nod. The ring was beautiful and it fit perfectly. He stood up and gave you one more kiss. “Hungry? I’m makin’ soup,” he said, once he had pulled away. You laughed, wiping away your tears. They weren’t sad tears anymore, they were happy tears. You knew now that Eliot Spencer loved no one else the way he loved you. And that was enough.


	45. Eliot Comforts You

Eliot/Reader

\--

It was going to happen at some point. You hadn’t seen your sister in years; your parents had made sure of that, after they’d kicked you out of the house. Several months previously you had gotten an email from your sister telling you that she was in the final stages of cancer and wanted to see you before she passed away. Of course, you had said yes, driving through the night to get back to your hometown in Ohio. You had sat with her for a while and caught up on your lives before you got a call from Nate about another con. Your sister had been so forgiving, understanding that you had a job to do and couldn’t just drop everything without warning. Every weekend, you drove back to Ohio and stayed with your sister for a while. You’d coordinate when your parents were going to visit her and make sure you were nowhere near the hospital. You weren’t really sure you wanted to have that conversation, especially not in front of your dying sister. She had lasted longer than the doctors had predicted, and you were beginning to hope she was going to get better, when you got the call. 

It was a Wednesday morning and you were sitting in a booth in the Brew Pub sipping your coffee and catching up on the latest news when your phone rang. It wasn’t a number you recognized, so you declined the call. You were surprised to see that the person who called had left a message. You listened to it and your heart sank. 

“Hello, this is Ester from St. James’ Hospital, I have some news that I’d really like to deliver either on the phone or in person, thank you for your time.” Your blood ran cold. Everything was spinning for a minute while you gathered the courage to redial the number and hear the terrible news. Finally, you did, and it was just as devastating as you though it would be. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes so you quickly rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. Then you began to sob. You shook as the tears ran down your face. After what felt like years, you gathered yourself back up. It was just in time, too, because Nate had just texted about a new case. You exited the stall and looked at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, you ran cold water in the sink and grabbed some paper towels. That got rid of the puffiness, but your eyes were still red, so you decided to chalk it all up to getting something in your eye and walked to the back room where the rest of the team was waiting.

* * *

You were distracted the entire con. Nate would have to say your name three times to get you to realize someone was talking to you, and you made some amateur mistakes. You apologized profusely after each one, but it didn’t make it less obvious that something was wrong. 

Once the con had finished, and everyone was just hanging around the Brew Pub, you decided to go home. The happiness and enjoyment everyone was getting from each other was suffocating. You feigned at least minimal disappointment that you had to go, but you made the excuse that you were tired and just wanted some sleep. No one bought it, but they let you go. 

Back in your own apartment again, you were greeted with a new picture you had taken about two weeks previously. It was you and your sister smiling together. That began the water works once again and you felt like your world was crashing down. You collapse by the door and just laid on the floor sobbing. You didn’t feel like getting up, but then you heard a knock on the door. It startled you, and you jumped, but you got up and opened it without looking at who was behind the door. It was Eliot. He looked up as you opened the door, his face laced with concern. He stepped forward and you allowed him into your apartment, not feeling like arguing with anyone. He pulled you into a tight hug and held you for a minute. This gesture only made you sob harder. He moved both of you to the couch. He sat down and you laid across him. He played with your hair and turned the TV on, knowing that it was best to distract you than to try and tell you everything was going to be OK. He didn’t even know why you were crying, he just wanted you to be OK. He sat with you until you fell asleep, then he took you to your room and put you in your bed. He then went back out to the living room and laid down on the couch, knowing you would probably need someone, if not tonight, the next morning. You were never that emotional, so Eliot knew something huge must have happened. He also knew you were a pretty private person (most people in your line of work were) so he knew you’d tell him when you felt comfortable. And he was OK with that.


	46. Eliot Kills Victor Dubenich

“Who the hell are you?” Dubenich asked as Quinn stepped out in front of him.

“Well I’m definitely not Eliot,” he said as Eliot came crashing through and took Dubenich to the ground. He stood up and had a gun pointed between Dubenich’s eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Sophie asked, her voice sounded strangled. She wanted him dead as much as Eliot, but she knew it would destroy him if he did. “What the hell are you doing?” Dubenich smirked and stared right back at Eliot, whose hand was now shaking. Eliot didn’t like guns, but he did know how to use them. 

There were two things Eliot knew about this particular con: 

1\. It was personal for Nate. He wouldn’t stop until Dubenich was dead, and 

2\. He knew how it would affect Nate if he actually killed Dubenich. 

Eliot’s mind quickly flashed to the first time he aimed a gun at someone and squeezed the trigger. He was 19 and when he got back to base camp, he threw up. Killing people wasn’t for the faint of heart. He made 23 confirmed kill shots later that year. It would be the beginning of a very bloody future, one that a kid as young as Eliot was, couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

He was then reminded of the first time he was snapped out of Damien Moreau’s spell. How he felt when he had to collect the pieces of himself he had destroyed through his work for the sadistic man. How he knew, even now, he couldn’t wipe that much red from his ledger. 

He considered, for a half second, handing the gun to Quinn. He would pull the trigger in a heartbeat and never look back. That was the kind of man Quinn was, but Eliot knew that he would eventually change and come around to his side. Or he would be killed during a job. What was that famous saying? You either die thinking of yourself as a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. Well, he was at that point already, no need to drag Quinn down with him. 

Finally, his mind flashed to Nate. The first time he saw him, he was an alcoholic mastermind trying to heard cats. Now he was sober and knew exactly how to keep the cats in line. He was a smart man. Not an innocent man, but not as deep in the game as Eliot was. Once Nate pulled the trigger there was no going back. He would never be the same Nate. He would never be the same mastermind that the team desperately needed. He would wither away until the guilt of what he had done would kill him. Eliot knew that was what was in his own future, and he had made peace with that a long time ago. One more body wasn’t going to change anything. 

“Eliot, don’t. He’s not worth it!” Sophie sounded miles away, and he almost didn’t hear her words. 

“I’m savin’ my friend some trouble.” He felt his finger tighten around the trigger, and he squeezed. The sound wasn’t new to him, but it did feel different. There was blood everywhere, but he didn’t care. He unloaded the casing and handed the gun to Quinn before walking away. He knew Sophie would never forgive him for this. He didn’t think Nate would either. Parker and Hardison would look at him differently, not knowing whether to trust him or not. He didn’t know where he was going, but he kept walking. With one shot, he had completely destroyed the family he had built. He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. Sure, he’d saved Nate from having to kill Dubenich, but it was at the expense of the whole team.


	47. Baseball Player AU

Eliot/Reader

\--

You weren’t really a fan of baseball, if you were perfectly honest. It just wasn’t that interesting to you. However, if you were talking about the men  _playing_  baseball, it was a completely different story. Your older brother was a huge minor league baseball fan, for no reason you could discern. They weren’t famous and most games were basically the same. He’d drag you to a game every once in a while, if you weren’t working, and you’d eat your overpriced hotdog, pretending to have fun. 

Today was a different day, however. You’re brother’s favorite team (your home team, of course) was playing their rivals. You tried really hard to pay attention to what was happening, but you were distracted. The team had gotten a new player recently and he was…well, gorgeous. Normally, you didn’t go for men with long hair, but this guy was different. He would shake his long, wavy hair in and out of his batting helmet, and then make a really good hit (according to your brother). He was also the catcher, and, because it was both minor leagues and your brother was a crazy fan with too much money, he always bought you two seats right behind home plate. You had a perfect view of number seven. You would jump up and cheer when your brother did, not really knowing what was going on, because you were so distracted. After any normal game, your brother would try and meet the team while you went to go find the car, however you decided to tag along this time in hopes of meeting the talented Number Seven. You weren’t paying attention when they introduced him at the beginning of the game. 

As it just so happened, you and your brother actually did get to meet the team. Your brother happened to be a friend of a friend of the batboy for the team and he told your brother where the team was going to get a drink after they’d cleaned up. Both you and your brother were giddy, though for two very different reasons. He was excited to meet his long-time heroes; you were excited to meet the hot new catcher. You both loitered around the bar the batboy had told you about until your brother saw some familiar faces. He dragged you over to the bar where a couple of the players were ordering drinks and he struck up a conversation with them. He was much more smooth than you were, and you sat next to him, listening. One of the players, the left fielder you thought, said that they were going to this exclusive hangout that the baseball club had bought and asked if you and your brother wanted to tag along. Of course you both said yes, and after you paid for your drinks, they gave you directions and said they would meet you both there. 

You expected it to be a set-up. You expected to drive up to an empty lot and have to explain to your brother that, no the secret clubhouse wasn’t invisible, you had both been bamboozled. Your expectations weren’t met, however, when you pulled up to a modest looking house with about five cars parked in the driveway. The players you had met earlier were already there and they indicated where you were supposed to park. 

Parties were never your thing, but they were your brother’s. You walked into the house and you noticed just how many people were actually there. You turned to ask your brother how long he thought he was going to stay there, but he was gone. You closed your eyes and squeezed your temple, already feeling a headache coming on from the loud music. You downed a drink and went in search for your brother; sure he had to be around there somewhere. 

It had been about an hour and a half before you gave up and went outside to get a breath of fresh air. It was colder outside now, and you put your sweatshirt back on as you sat down on a step that led down from the back porch. Everyone was inside drinking and partying. You squeezed your eyes shut, the alcohol affecting your brain somewhat, asking yourself how in the world your brother had talked you into coming here. You heard someone ask if the seat next to you was taken and you waved your hand, indicating that it was not. 

“Don’t like parties either?” The voice was deep and gravely and…kind of sexy. You opened your eyes to see the hot Number Seven baseball player sitting down next to you, staring up at the sky. 

“Nah, my brother’s a fan, we got invited, I got dragged along,” you said, a little awe struck of the gorgeous man sitting next to you.

He looked over at you and smiled. “Eliot Spencer,” was all he said, offering out his hand. You took it and gave your name in return. You expected him to shake your hand, but instead, he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. You blushed. 

“It’s pretty cold out,” he said, noting the thin sweatshirt you had on as your only protection against the weather. He offered his jacket. 

“And then you’ll be cold,” you said, teasing him. You weren’t sure where this flirtatious behavior was coming from; usually you would trip over your words and blush. He chuckled and then slid closer to you, putting his arm around you and encasing you in his jacket. He was like a heater, radiating a warmth you didn’t know you were missing. You cuddled up close to him and he squeezed you gently. You were both staring up at the stars. You felt yourself begin to slip away as the night got older, until the back door opened and the music blared out, making you jump, and making Eliot hold you tighter. It was your brother. He was clearly extremely intoxicated and was stumbling around like an idiot. Eliot looked down at you and smirked. You tried to hide your face in his chest, but to no avail. You hadn’t had much alcohol at all, and it had been several hours, so you decided you were OK to drive you and your brother home. You thanked Eliot Spencer for lending you his warmth (and his lap) for a while. He smiled and waved to you as you backed out of the driveway. You took your brother back to your apartment and made him sleep on the couch, leaving a couple of ibuprofens and a glass of water on the coffee table for the morning. 

* * *

The next day, you realized you had fallen asleep in your clothes. Groggily, you began to strip, realizing that you had work in an hour and you needed to take a shower. You threw your clothes in the hamper and forgot about them. 

A couple days later, you were doing laundry. As just a habit, you stuck your hands in all of your jean pockets to make sure you didn’t wash anything important. You were pretty good about emptying your pockets at the end of the night, however you found a slip of paper you didn’t even know you had. In one of the front pockets was a small slip of paper, carefully folded in half. You unfolded the mystery note, and realized that Eliot Spencer, the really hot minor league baseball player, had given you his number. You were embarrassed, but not enough to not contact him, so you quickly took out your phone and texted him, apologizing for not doing that earlier. 

He was extremely understanding and asked you out for coffee, which you quickly agreed to.

* * *

From then on, you tried to go to as many baseball games with your brother as you could. You hadn’t told him you were dating one of the players on his favorite team, you were waiting for the right time to have that conversation, but you  _did_  end up going to more of the ‘secret clubhouse’ parties, even if it was just to hang out outside with your extremely hot, number seven jersey wearing boyfriend.


	48. Eliot thinks the reader is in love with Alec

Eliot/Reader

\--

“Thanks, hon,” you said as Alec tossed you a bottle of orange soda. You called everyone by a pet name, be it ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’, or even ‘babe’, you were pretty liberal with affectionate pet names. Eliot hadn’t really realized it before, you had always done it, so why would he? But for some reason, this time, he noticed. He started noticing more and more about how close you and Alec were to each other, how easily he invaded your personal space and vice versa, how it seemed you seemed to know what he was going to say before he said it, and many other small gestures. He knew what that meant. You wouldn’t really come out with it, as Nate would probably say it was a bad idea (even though he and Sophie were really bad at hiding their relationship). He felt his heart sink. He’d been trying to get up the courage to ask you out for coffee, but it seemed Alec had beat him to it. He swallowed his pride, however, realizing that ultimately, it was your choice, and he couldn’t change your mind, even if he wanted to. However, he was still very protective over you, and he didn’t think he could control himself if he saw Alec hurt you. So one day, he pulled Alec aside. 

“What’s up, man?” Alec asked, completely confused as to why Eliot couldn’t just talk to him in the area with everyone else. 

“Look, I see the way you look at them, and talk to them, so I want to make sure we’re both on the same page. You know I would die for everyone out there, but you hurt them, I hurt you, understood?” 

Alec was extremely confused. “Um, no, not understood.”

“You mess them around, and I’ll kill you, clear enough?” Everything suddenly clicked for Alec and he started laughing, making it Eliot’s turn to be confused. “Damnit Hardison, I’m being serious!” Alec finally calmed down enough to speak.

“Man, it’s hilarious. You actually think – them and me? Oh my God, you are so oblivious,” he said, falling back into a fit of laugher. 

“Oblivious? What the hell are you talkin about.”

“They like  _you_ , Eliot, not me,” Alec said, finally getting control of himself. This took Eliot by surprise. Did you really like him? Then why did it seem like you only flirted with Hardison? “When we ‘flirt’ it’s just a joke, me and Parker are totally a thing, man. They’re all yours.” Eliot realized the huge mistake he’d just made and ran his fingers through his long wavy hair in irritation. “We good?” Alec asked as he began heading back to the briefing room. Eliot rolled his eyes and followed the hacker out. So it wasn’t too late to ask you to coffee…

Once he was back in the room, he pulled you off to the side.   
“Hey, is everything ok?” You asked, concerned. You had just seen him take Alec off to the side as well, and you hoped nothing terrible had happened. 

“Everything’s fine, do you want to go and get coffee once we finish this con?” The words poured out of his mouth before he could even think about what he was saying. You blinked back at him, surprised at his forwardness. 

“Umm, yeah sure, that’d be great,” you said, a smile began to creep onto your face. 

“Great. We should probably head back,” he said, moving towards the couch. You followed closely behind him, pleasantly surprised that you had gotten everything you ever wanted in a matter of seconds. You sat down next to him on the couch, closer than you normally would have, but he seemed to relish the lack of space between you. You smirked at Alec, and he returned the same expression. The jealousy plan he had concocted had worked.


	49. Sacrificing Yourself

Eliot/Reader

\--

You had absolutely no idea what had happened. One minute you were in the funeral home with Alec, Nate, and the drug dealers, and the next – nothing but blackness. You could feel your breath hitting you in the face when you breathed. You knew you were in a confined space, but you didn’t know where, how confined, or if Nate and Alec were OK. Suddenly, you were spooked by the gentle twinkling sound of your ringtone. You composed yourself before answering. 

“H – hello?” You were still groggy from passing out. 

“Good to know you’re awake,” the voice had an accent you couldn’t quite place, “I hope your friends can find you in time.”  _Click_. You realized where you were. Carefully, you raised your hands and felt around the box. You took a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself. You were buried alive. 

You weren’t nearly as freaked out when your phone rang for the second time. The caller ID said it was Nate and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Please tell me you and Alec are OK.” 

“I’m fine, Hardison is, we believe, buried alive. Where are you?” Your heart sank. Odds were not looking to be in your favor. “Hello? Can you still hear me? Where are you?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am also buried alive.” The line went silent. “Ok, we have a plan, but you have to hold tight for a minute.” Then the line went dead. 

You answered immediately when they called back. 

“Do you hear a police car or an ambulance?” 

“Um, neither?” there was a sigh of frustration on the other end, and then you heard the faint sound of sirens. “Wait, wait, I do hear something, it’s um, I think it’s an ambulance.” 

“Sophie and Parker are on their way, we’ll get you out, don’t worry.” You hated hearing the line go dead. You suddenly remembered the extra earbud you had slipped into your pocket when Hardison wasn’t looking. You carefully twisted and turned until you had produced the small piece and put it in your ear. Almost instantaneously you had wished you hadn’t.

“I don’t think we can save them both.” It was Sophie. “They won’t have enough air.” Almost on cue, you became acutely aware of the lack of oxygen. 

“We have to, I don’t care what it takes, we have to save both of them.” That was Eliot. You smiled, knowing he was always the one to lobby for the least amount of casualties. 

“Get Alec first.” That was you. You were running out of oxygen faster than you anticipated and you realized he would have a better chance anyway. “Don’t tell him I said to, though.” You heard a couple surprised exclamations of your name. 

“I don’t care what the math says, we’re savin you both.” You closed your eyes. The oxygen was quickly running out. You heard shots ring out and grunts over the coms. Dirt was moving around above you, you could hear it. Your last conscious thought was about how you had  _explicitly told them_  to get Alec first. Then there was nothing.

* * *

While Eliot and Nate were dealing with the drug dealers, Sophie and Parker were trying to figure out which graves you were both buried in. It took a hot second, but they deduced they probably wouldn’t have buried the two of you on separate corners of the graveyard, and found two sets of graves right next to each other and began digging. That’s when the shots were fired and they were forced to take cover behind some tall gravestones. It was all a blur; Parker suddenly had a gun in her hand and told Alec to “Move to your left” before shooting the side of the casket. Alec took in a breath of fresh air. As much as Parker wanted to grab him and pull him from the grave herself, she knew you were still alone, and she moved over to where Sophie had just finished digging. She told you the same thing she had told Alec, but she got no response, so she shot. You didn’t push up on the top of the casket, so Sophie pulled it open herself and dragged your body out onto the grass. Eliot had bounded over and engulfed Alec in a tight hug. Both men were crying. When they both let go, they looked over at where your body lay. Sophie was attempting CPR. Everyone but Hardison held their breath.  _One, two, three, four, five…._  Sophie was trying as hard as she could to revive you. She had Parker grab the defibrillator from the ambulance and they used it on you when she had returned. They tried it once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time, you sucked in as much air as could fit in your lungs and began coughing. You were still laying on the grass, but Alec hoisted you up and hugged you tighter than was comfortable, considering you had just been without air for longer than reasonable. You could hear him crying into your shoulder and you decided to give him a pass.   
“It’s ok, it’s all over,” you croaked out, patting him on the back reassuringly. 

* * *

When you got back to Nate’s apartment, everyone started fussing over both you and Alec. You rolled your eyes, shooed them away, ensured them that you were in fact, ok and not going to drop dead randomly. You made yourself some coffee and watched as Alec tried to figure out how to come back from being in such a tight space. Eliot sidled up next to you and watched Alec as well. 

“You almost died.” You nodded. You knew. In fact, the ‘almost’ part in that sentence was the most surprising part of it. When you had told the team to save Alec first, you knew what you were doing. “Don’t do that again,” Eliot’s voice wasn’t angry, it was worried. He knew full well that you were aware of the stakes when you told them to retrieve Alec first. He knew all too well what it looked like when someone made the conscious decision to die. He’d made that decision before.

* * *

You and Alec ended up leaving at the same time. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence, Sophie was probably the one who told him, she didn’t like secrets among the team. Once you were both out in the hallway, Alec stopped you. 

“You told them to get me first.” His voice was hurt and scared. You swallowed and nodded. “You can’t do that. You don’t get to prioritize who gets saved first –“ You knew he was going to lecture you, but you couldn’t take it. You cut him off.

“I would make the same decision in a heartbeat, Alec Hardison. I made the right call because I knew no one else wanted to. If it’s going to be a choice between me and you, it will always be you. It has always been you, Alec. Regardless to what they might admit to, they need you far more than they need me.” You finished your little speech staring him right in the eye. He needed to know you were serious. He was staring right back at you. In one swift movement, your back was against the wall and Alec’s body was on yours. His lips felt soft and warm against yours and you melted into the kiss. He slowed it down and backed away just enough so that he could speak. When he did, his lips brushed against yours. “What makes you think that, just because you think the team could live without you, means that I could?” Your breathing was heavier than it normally was. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered before leaning forward so you could kiss him again. He accepted your apology by kissing you back just as passionately as before. 


	50. Eliot and Hardison being Protective

Unfortunately, you were used to being hit by men who thought they were in charge. So when the mark hit you flat across the face, you flinched, but out of pain, not surprise. You left almost directly after that, Nate had ordered you to. 

“Get out of there. Now.” Nate sounded pissed. For a second, you feared he was mad at you, but you took a deep breath and realized he was not mad at you, but the situation. 

When you walked into the apartment, Sophie handed you a bag of ice. 

“Thanks,” you said, smiling at her. She smiled back, but you could tell she was holding something back. You held the ice to your eye. You could feel the skin bloating and you were sure it was a deep purple and blue. It was going to be a bitch to cover up. You tossed yourself lightly down on the couch and waited for Nate to give the next order. 

“You’re out of the game.” 

“Excuse me?” There was no way Nate would actually take you off of the con. 

“You’re off the con. I can’t risk you getting hurt anymore.”

“Hurt? Trust me, I’ve had worse from people I respect more, I’ll be fine.” Even with one eye, you could see the hesitance in his face. 

“Fine, but you have to be extremely careful. Nothing like this anymore.” You rolled your eyes. 

* * *

You, Eliot, and Hardison were attending a gala for the mark. Both boys had been uncharacteristically quiet after you had come back with the shiner. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw both Eliot and Hardison make simultainious movements. You quickly placed a hand on both of their chests and walked them back into a separate room. 

“What the HELL were you going to do?” You were pissed, and they knew it. 

“Look, he deserves every bit of what we were going to do –“

“He’s a piece of scum, there was no reason for him to hit you –“ 

Both of them were speaking at the same time, but they cut themselves off when you raised your hands to silence them. 

“I don’t care what chivalrous thing you thought you were doing, I am fine, I don’t know what I have to do to prove that to you.” 

“You got hit in the face, I swear to God I’m going to do at least the same to him,” Eliot said, gritting his teeth. You faced him, narrowing your eyes. 

“I am not a maiden in need of defending, so stand down or so help me I will have Nate pull you from this con.” Eliot blinked. You weren’t usually this obviously upset when it came to Eliot, but you were sick of him pretending like you couldn’t handle yourself. He took a deep breath. 

“Ok, your call. How do you want to do this?”  
“Without either of you getting anywhere near the mark, for starters,” you saw Alec begin to protest, but you cut him off before he could start, “If I need you, I will tell you,” you finished, gesturing at your ear. Neither man liked this idea, but for the con to work, it required someone close to the mark. You took a deep breath, checked your face in the mirror to make sure your bruise was still covered with makeup, and then exited the room. 

The boys looked at each other before they exited themselves.

“We’re not letting her out of our sight, right?” Alec asked quietly as they re-entered the gala. 

“Oh yeah, she’s not going anywhere with that prick,” Eliot confirmed, his voice matching Alec’s pitch. There was no way they were going to let you get hit again.


	51. Eliot Singing

Eliot/Reader

\--

It had been getting progressively harder to sleep. It had been a month and you felt like the nightmares should have subsided by now. Sophie assured you it was normal.

“After a kidnapping, you shouldn’t expect to be normal afterwards. It takes time and patience.” 

Well your patience was wearing thin. It was the fourth consecutive night where you had woken up in the middle of the night due to nightmares. You never could go back to sleep after them, no matter how hard you tried. You rolled over and saw that Eliot still wasn’t home. You checked your phone. 1:23AM. You sighed. 

Surprisingly, you were almost asleep when a loud noise jolted you back awake. It was the front door. Someone was in your apartment. You were terrified it was,  _them_ , coming to finish you off. Like a child, you hid under the covers. You knew it was silly, all the intruder had to do was pull the covers off of you and your hiding spot would be revealed. You heard footsteps approach your bedroom door. You heard them stop. The door squeaked open. More quiet shuffling, and the door squeaked closed. Somehow, you gathered up the courage to peak out from your cover hiding spot. Then you breathed a sigh of relief. It was Eliot. He jumped, which was an odd sight to see. Turning around his eyes fell on you and he whispered your name. You smiled weakly at him and he smiled back, running his fingers through his long dark hair. You noticed he was shirtless. You could have sworn there had not been that many scars the last time you had checked. 

After another minute, he climbed into the bed with you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He was so warm; such a stark contrast to your freezing cold body. You buried your face in his chest and tried to focus on your breathing. That’s what you had read was supposed to work. 

Out of nowhere, you felt his chest begin to…vibrate? You pulled your head back slightly and heard Eliot humming. 

“Then a memory hits you right out of the blue. That’s just me, thinkin’ of you,” he murmured. 

“Isn’t that song about a break up?” You mumbled, almost asleep. You felt him chuckle. “Don’t leave me,” you said, suddenly afraid that he was implying something. You felt his grip on your waist tighten. He pulled back and put a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. He then leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “Never,” he whispered in your ear. 

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep with Eliot holding you. He continued humming and periodically singing quietly until you fell back asleep. He followed soon after.  


	52. Migraine

Eliot/Reader

\--

The headaches had been getting progressively worse. You had one almost every morning when you woke up, and they would flare anytime you were somewhere with bright light. You were popping pills left and right, but eventually, they ran out. Unfortunately for you, it happened during a con. 

You tried squeezing your eyes shut, but it didn’t help. You felt like someone was squishing your brain. Reaching into your bag, you grabbed the bottle that usually held your medication, but when you went to dump out the contents, you found there was none. You sighed and decided to power through the pain. 

* * *

You were cornered. The mark had figured out who you were and who you were with and was now pointing a gun straight at your face. The lighting in the warehouse was extremely bright, making your migraine flair up again. You tried covering your eyes with you hand. 

“What the hell are you doing?” The mark asked, thoroughly confused, “What the hell is wrong with you?” You had three options. One: you could lie and pretend that the light wasn’t trying to murder your brain; two: you could run and get shot by the mark, probably killing you; or three: tell the truth. 

“I get these super intense migraines, and the light isn’t helping, can you turn down the brightness or something?” This took him by surprise. 

“Wha – no! Stop lying to me and tell me where my damn money is!” 

“I don’t know where your ‘damn money is’ but if you don’t turn down these lights I’m going to ask you to shoot me.” You were only a little bit serious.

“I ain’t leavin, or leavin you without my damn mon –“ There was a full stop and a loud clatter as Eliot tackled the mark, effectively knocking the gun out of his hand. You quickly picked it up and pointed it at him.

“You are going to leave town and never come back. If I ever see you again running a con like this, trust me, I won’t be so nice as to let you walk away.” Your voice made you sound much more confidant than you were. The mark quickly retreated, leaving the warehouse. He’d run into the county sheriff on his way out of town with a trunkful of counterfeit bills. You gave Eliot a weak smile, which he returned with a concerned look.

* * *

Back at McRory’s everyone was celebrating. Your eyes hated the lighting in the bar as well, so you were trying to self medicate with alcohol. You were at the bar when Parker approached you.

“Hey.”

“Hey?” 

“I heard what you said about the headaches,” Parker said, gesturing towards her earpiece. 

“I was just playing a part, getting him distracted so he didn’t see Eliot coming.” Parker nodded, understanding, but there was a look in her eye that suggested otherwise. You grabbed your beer and headed back to the table. 

* * *

Finally, after what felt like years, the party disbanded and you started walking to your car. You heard some heavy footsteps behind you and you turned around, almost colliding straight into Eliot. 

“Hey!” You said, surprised to see him.

“Hey, sorry, you ok?” He was out of breath and it appeared he’d run from the bar to catch up to you. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit tired, you?” 

“Fine.” You both walked in silence for a while before he asked the question you knew he was there for. “You sure you’re ok? I mean what you said –“  
“I appreciate it, but as I told Parker, it was all an act. I just needed to distract him long enough so you could disarm him. I. Am. Fine.” Your migraine had subsided as you walked in the dark, but it was back now and in full swing. You shivered, and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to make the sudden stabbing pain dissipate. 

“Here,” Eliot said, draping his coat over your shoulders. 

“I don’t need it, my car’s just up there,” you said. You normally wouldn’t be so snippy but you really were tired, and your head was killing you. You felt a hand digging through the pockets of Eliot’s coat. Following the arm, you discovered Eliot was looking for something. 

“Ah-hah,” he said mater-of-factly. He produced a small, plastic, white bottle. He unscrewed the top and poured out a pill. “It’s like 30 mg, you’ll be fine. You shouldn’t take two though.” You carefully took the pill from his hand. He also handed you a water bottle. Where he had hidden that, you had no idea. You took the medication and he took you by the arm, leading you to what you thought was your car. 

But then you passed your car.   
“El, my car’s back there.”  
“I know, but you just took a whole bunch of migraine medicine and there’s no way I’m lettin’ you drive home by yourself. I’ll pick you up in the morning and you can drive home after work.” You were too tired to argue. Sure enough, you almost fell asleep on the way to your apartment. He walked you up to your door, and you paused. He lifted your face with his forefinger and, without thinking; you raised yourself onto your toes, pressing your lips against his. He was surprised, no doubt, but he quickly melted into the kiss, securing his arms around your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He was the first to pull back, even if it was only slightly.

“You need your sleep, darlin’,” he said, his breathing labored, “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

“Or you could stay,” you said, wanting nothing more than for him to hold you. He knew what it felt like to have migraines. He was the only one on the team who you talked to about this. He hesitated, but eventually, he conceded and followed you into your apartment. 

That night, in your pitch-black bedroom, no headaches, no migraines could be found. Only your sleeping figure, expertly tucked into Eliot’s chest.


	53. Flight

Eliot/Reader

\--

“Why can’t I stay here and help Hardison?” You asked nervously. 

“Because we can use all hands on deck, and we’re already here,” Nate answered, taking the keys out of the car. You chewed your tongue anxiously. You’d never flown before. 

“Look, it’s really not that scary when you think about it,” Parker whispered, “You’re just in a metal box hurdling through the air.” 

“Thanks Parker,” you said sarcastically. 

* * *

“Ok, so I got tickets for just about everyone.”  
“I got an Air Marshall badge, don’t worry about me.”  
“Yeah and I got a flight attendant uniform.”

“Ok, cool, so you should all have your tickets on your phones…. now.” As soon as he said it, Nate’s, Sophie’s, and your own cell phones buzzed with a notification from Hardison. 

Nate, Sophie, and Parker boarded first, as both Nate and Sophie had first class tickets, and Parker had to establish her flight attendant cover. You got through security first and sat down. You had a window seat towards the back of the plane so you could see everyone. A couple of minutes later, someone sat down next to you. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” It was Eliot. He looked you over for a second before continuing. “You OK?” You released your grip on the armrests. You didn’t even realize you had a hold of them. 

“Yeah, yeah no I’m good.” 

“First flight?” Your look gave it away. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Most planes make it to safety everyday.”

“Well good for them. You do realize we attract trouble like a magnet, right?” Eliot chuckled. The seat belt sign flashed and you quickly buckled up. You felt Eliot take your hand, and you closed your eyes as the plane began to taxi. You squeezed his hand and squeezed back as the plane took flight. 

Once you were all in the air, Eliot gave one final squeeze before letting your hand go. You opened your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Time to go to work,” Eliot mumbled, getting up out of his seat. 

* * *

“Wait so you’re telling me this guy wants to kill me? Why would he want to do that? I’m a nobody!” Marissa was so close to tears you were afraid she would burst. 

“Yeah, looks like it. Now we’re going to keep you safe, but you have to trust us, can you do that?” She nodded. Sophie really did have a way with people. Parker escorted her back to her seat. You were still a little nervous, what with a soon-to-be-murderer and a soon-to-be-victim on board and nowhere to go but down, but other than that, you were fine. Eliot noticed your uneasy behavior and took you aside. 

“Hey, listen, I promise you will be ok, ok?” He was looking you straight in the eye. “Do you hear me?” His voice was soft, but still full of concern. You nodded, and then returned to you seat. Parker would have to climb through to the cargo hold and it might look suspicious if you were just hanging around by yourself. 

* * *

It was total chaos. You knew what was going on, you knew Alec could fix it, but that still didn’t stop you from freaking out. The masks fell from the ceiling. 

“Look, I can do this!” 

“Yes, you can, Alec, but I would really appreciate it if you could do it now!” You heard Parker say. You were white knuckling the armrests again, but this time, for a legitimate reason. 

You were hyperventilating when you felt someone sit down beside you and strap in. Someone gently pulled one of your hands from the armrest and held it, rubbing circles on the back.   
“Just breath, sweetheart, everythin’s under control.” You took a deep breath.

* * *

“I never want to get on another plane again.” You said. You were clearly shaken by the ordeal. 

“You do realize all you had to say was that it was your first flight, I would have understood.” Sophie said. 

“Also, how are you planning on getting back stateside?” Parker asked. You ran your fingers through your hair. 

“We can stay the night, but just one night.” Nate conceded. 

* * *

The next morning, you drove to the airport with Eliot. He stood with you in line, sat next to you again on the flight back. He never let go of your hand. Halfway through, you fell asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He smiled, still rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.


	54. Eliot forces you to stay out of a con

Eliot/Reader

\--

“I can’t believe I’m actually having this argument with you.” Eliot’s voice was tired, but he sounded almost amused. 

“Look, I’m a part of the team regardless of my current predicament.” You hated being treated like a fragile flower, and Eliot knew that. He’d been pretty relaxed when you were first pregnant – other than being banned from anything even remotely resembling physical struggles – but now, 6 months in to your pregnancy, and you were much more obviously pregnant. Eliot had to put his foot down at some point. You knew it was going to happen, but it still made you upset. Eliot sighed. 

“I know you’re a part of the team, we all do, but I can’t have anything happen to you – either of you,” he corrected himself. He pulled you closer, kissing the crown of your head. “I know you want to help, but right now, help is not what we need from you,” he bent down so you were face to face, “What we need from you is to rest and keep the two of you as safe as possible.” You knew he was right. He kissed you gently and stood back up. You followed him as he broke the kiss, desperate for more, but he only chuckled. “Gotta go to work, babe.” He winked and walked out the door of the little apartment the two of you had shared for almost a year now. You ran your fingers through your hair, staring at the door where your husband, and father of your future child had just walked out of. Taking a deep breath, you went and fetched yourself some cereal. It was going to be a long day. 

You tried entertaining yourself for a while, but no matter what you did, your thoughts always moved back to Eliot and the team. Cleaning was the only thing that helped. You did all the dishes, cleaned off the counters, vacuumed, and started folding laundry when something on the side table next to the couch caught your eye. It was an earpiece. Eliot must have forgotten it. You picked it up, weighing your options. Finally, you decided that if you couldn’t  _physically_  help, maybe you could help in spirit. You squished the earpiece into you ear. 

“…Don’t think the CEO knew about the embezzlement, he was genuinely surprised when we said something.” It was Alec. You, as quickly as possible, went to the kitchen and grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper. You jotted down notes as the team talked. 

“Why hasn’t anyone done any deep background on this other guy, Alfred whatshisname?” You asked, forgetting that you were eavesdropping. The line went silent. You froze, immediately realizing your mistake. Eliot snapped you out of it by saying your name. 

“I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed to work anymore cases,” he growled. 

“I’m not! I’m just…helping with this one.” 

“Where’d you even get an earpiece?” Parker asked.

“Don’t encourage her!” Eliot said, trying to whisper. 

“Well if Eliot didn’t leave his earpiece just lying around maybe I wouldn’t have found it and listened it,” you said mischievously, knowing that Eliot would probably wholeheartedly take the blame for this oversight. “And anyway, it’s not like I’m actually doing anything. I’ll just provide some witty comments every now and then. Who knows, I might even help solve the case.” You heard a sigh and could picture Eliot pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Fine.” You broke out in a huge grin. Today might not be as boring as you’d thought it was going to be. 

* * *

“Woah, this dude is seriously weird.” Parker had broken into his apartment and was looking for anything incriminating, or where he hid the money he had embezzled. 

“Weird like normal weird or like weird weird?” You heard Alec ask.

“What’s the difference?” She stole the words right out of your mouth.

“Normal weird is like, clashing colored walls, or all of his food is one color, or everything is super neat and clean. Weird weird is like obsessive. Like the dude’s got nothin’ but Aquaman action figures.” 

“Well then he’s definitely weird weird.”  
“What’s he got?” You asked. 

“Not just Aquaman, but like a billion different superheroes. Who even needs all this stuff? Oh my god.” 

“What is it? Are you ok? Parker?” Alec tended to freak out even if it wasn’t necessary. 

“I’m fine, but I just found a superhero costume.” She was holding back giggles, and so were you.

“Maybe he think’s he’s the Loan Ranger.” You managed to get out between your fits of laugher. You heard Alec chuckled at your joke. “Cause he’s an accountant?” Your clarification made Parker join in as well. You heard Eliot sigh in frustration, but you almost didn’t care. 

* * *

Ice cream for dinner wasn’t probably the best choice, but that was what your unborn child had decided, and you didn’t have your professional cook of a husband at home to cook for you, so you improvised. 

You flipped the TV on and scrolled down until you reached the news. There, you saw flashing police lights and two stone-faced police officers leading away a very upset, but bland looking man. 

“So we did it?” 

“Yeah, Parker, if by ‘it’ you mean help save about two dozen people from being wrongly accused of embezzlement and arrest the dude who actually did the deed then yeah, we did it.” 

“Well of course we did, we’re not Leverage Inc. for nothing.” You said, proud of how everyone had acted that day. 

“I’ll be home in like ten minutes, babe,” Eliot said over coms.

“Ok, he’s off.” You heard Alec say. 

“Why does he look so sad? He worked in the accounting department. There everybody counts!” You said, bursting into laughter with your two coworkers. 

“What do you think he said to his secretary when they carted him off? Calc-u-lator!” Alec chimed in, bringing about another round of giggles. 

“He looks super accrued.” Both you and Alec tossed accounting puns back and forth until you heard Eliot in the hallway. 

“He’s home gotta go. It’s been fun.” You slipped the earpiece out and back on the table just as he was opening the door. 

“Hey babe.” He called into the living room, “You eaten anything yet?” He stuck his head in and you tried to casually hide the empty ice cream container. He sighed, but a smile crept onto his face. “I’ll make somethin’,” he said, defeated. You walked over to him and gave him as tight as hug as you could. He rubbed your back and kissed your forehead. “I just want you to be safe,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I know,” you replied, your head buried in his chest. You knew that his worry was not going to stop in three months when your kid was born. Eliot cared far more about his family than he would ever admit to anyone but you.


	55. Dad!Eliot

Eliot/Reader

\--

“For the last time: I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, I can –“  
“Eliot, I swear to God, I am fine, now please calm down.” You were six months pregnant and Eliot had started to hover. He was nervous about your safety and the safety of your child. You had slipped in the kitchen (socks and hard wood was not a good combination, especially in your current predicament) but had caught yourself on the counter. Nothing had happened, but Eliot’s ears were now trained to hear your short gasps when something bad happened and he came rushing to your aid. 

“I’m just…” Something changed in Eliot’s face. It was an expression that you hadn’t seen, not in the four years you’d known him. You walked over and rested your head on his chest. 

“I know, I am too.” Nerves would be the only thing that would cause a normally calm and collected man to act so erratic. “But I am fine. We are fine. And so are you.” You took his face in your hands and guided his lips to yours. His arms went instinctively to your waist, but he pulled back.

“What if I’m not good enough.” This caught you off guard. Eliot was good at everything. What wouldn’t he be good at?

“Good enough for what, babe?” 

“For him, or her, or whatever, what if I’m not a good dad?” You felt your heart sink. He had said something similar the day before your wedding. 

“Eliot Spencer. You are the greatest man I have ever met. When I was younger, I never wanted kids. If you had asked me a year ago, I would have laughed in your face. But now we’re here, and I am so damn scared. But do you know what makes me feel better?” You tilted your head so that you were looking straight into his eyes. “Knowing that I get to come home to the best man in the world. Our kid is going to have two crazy parents who never wanted to be, but you know what? We’re also going to be amazing parents.” He gave a soft chuckle at that. “And,” you continued, “Nate and Sophie, well really just Sophie because, let’s be honest, Nate really doesn’t know anything about kids, despite having one himself, said that she’d be happy to help us. And I’m going to take her up on that.” You saw tears well up in Eliot’s eyes. 

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?”

“Must’ve been somethin pretty bad.” You said with a laugh. He joined you before helping you get ready for bed. His hands would hesitate before gently touching your overgrown stomach. His kid was inside there. He was awestruck. And terrified. But your speech had worked, at least somewhat. If Eliot was going to be a parent, he was damn lucky to have you as his partner. You were thinking the exact same thing as you fell asleep wrapped protectively in his arms.


	56. Moreau

Eliot/Hardison

\--

Alec felt like a wet dog. His suit was soaked straight through. Sophie was going to be pissed. He’d never been drowned before, so that was new. He never knew how claustrophobic it could get being tied to a chair at the bottom of an empty swimming pool.

He hadn’t said a word since he and Eliot had gotten back into the car. He grabbed some extra clothes from the back and changed before climbing back up to the front. He noticed Eliot glancing back at him every couple of minutes. Alec could tell he was worried but at this point, he didn’t care. Eliot had kept a secret from him – from the team. A secret that could have altered the team’s movements, helped them better prepare for Moreau. Instead he kept quiet and allowed them to make mistakes. Eliot pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off. 

“Look, man, I’m –“

“I don’t care.” Alec slammed the door for effect. He didn’t want to hear anything from Eliot, at least not right now. 

* * *

Eliot knew Moreau wanted him to show his hand. That’s why he’d pushed Alec into the pool. If Eliot jumped in to save him, it would show that he had become emotionally attached to someone. He heard the splash and a part of him broke inside. On one hand, he couldn’t let Alec drown. On the other hand, he couldn’t let Moreau know how close he and Alec were or it would blow the con. He did what he had to do, at least that’s what he told himself. 

Alec didn’t speak to him on the car ride back. Nate had texted his location, so Eliot headed in that direction. Alec changed out of his wet suit in the back while Eliot drove. Every couple of minutes Eliot would look back, just to make sure he was really alive. When he pulled into the parking space, he tried to apologize. He wanted to explain why he had done what he’d done, but it was no use. Alec slammed the door in his face. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He would rather Alec be alive and pissed, than dead. He climbed out of the car and followed him to where the team was meeting. 

* * *

“Tell them what you did.” Eliot felt the words pierce his heart. There was so much contempt and anger. He did what he could not to cry, but it was hard. Usually, it was Alec or Parker who did something stupid enough to warrant any kind of anger from Eliot, but this time, he knew he’d crossed the line. 

“The worst thing I ever did I did for Damian Moreau.” He couldn’t look at his team. He couldn’t risk the idea that they would be angry, or God forbid, pity him. 

“What was it?” Parker. Always curious. 

“Don’t ask me that,” he paused, not sure how to continue, “Don’t ask me that Parker, cause if you ask me, I’ll tell ya.” The last thing he wanted was for Alec Hardison and Parker to know his ultimate shame. The whole reason he joined the team in the first place. 

* * *

Eliot found Alec’s apartment fairly easily. All he did was follow him home. He waited about fifteen minutes before he slowly acended the stairs. He walked up to the door and raised his free hand to knock. He paused before finally deciding to rap his knuckles against the hard wood. He waited a minute, and the door cracked open.

“What do you want.” He was still angry. 

“To talk.” This took Alec by surprise. Sophie would want to talk. Hell, he’d assume Parker would want to talk before Eliot would. He glanced down and saw the six pack Eliot was carrying, and opened the door. 

“You OK?” Eliot asked. Sophie was the one who was the best at not only talking about her own feelings, but getting the team to talk about them as well. He asked Sophie for advice. 

“I’m fine. Surprised you care.” It was so nonchalant. It was almost more biting than his anger in the park. 

“I’m sorry.”  
“I don’t care.” 

“Look, if you would just listen for a second, I can explain –“  
“Explain what? Why you decided to let me die? Why you thought it was a good idea to let me drown? How many times do I have to almost die for this goddamn team? Half the time I have to save my own damn self. You couldn’t jump in and help me, but sure, throw in the key. Thank God I still got my brain, or I’d be dead!” Eliot had never heard such a loud sound emit from Alec Hardison. He almost flinched. 

“If I could have jumped in and saved you, I would have,” Eliot started. His voice was quiet, but Alec heard every word. “That’s why I’m the hitter. I’m supposed to be the one who takes the hits. I’m the one who’s supposed to almost drown. Not you. Not Parker. Not Sophie. Not Nate. It’s supposed to be me. And I’m sorry.” Eliot’s voice got caught in his throat. He had been running through the scenario that Alec didn’t make it in his head the entire time he was following him home. “I’m sorry.” His voice was so quiet now, it was practically a whisper. 

“It would have tipped Moreau off to the con.” Alec’s voice was thick with emotion, but Eliot resisted the urge to look. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Alec. Or the team. Without warning, Alec wrapped Eliot in a huge hug. On any normal day, Eliot would push him away, but it wasn’t a normal day. Alec almost died, and it was Eliot’s fault. He let the hacker hug him. He even hugged him back, just to make sure he was really alive. 

“I forgive you for almost letting me drown.” Alec said. His voice was back to normal now. Not loud and booming or fraught with emotion. Eliot didn’t say anything back, he just squeezed Alec tighter.


	57. Coming Out

Eliot/Reader

\--

Your relationship with Eliot was moving too fast, but you had no idea what to say. How do you tell the most patient and kind man in the world your darkest secret? You didn’t know, so you would just come up with one lame excuse after another. 

Finally, one night, it just…came out. You were both cuddling on the couch watching some dumb action movie Eliot had chosen when he kissed the crown of your head. You didn’t mind, but it caught you off guard and you turned your head to look at him. He caught your lips with his and kissed you. It was nice. That was one thing you did love about your relationship – Eliot was a fantastic kisser. He started to move a little faster, and you pulled away. 

“Are you ok, babe?” He asked, cupping your chin in his hand. You felt a knot in your stomach tighten. You had never told anyone this. Not even Sophie. You took a deep breath.

“I…can’t. I’m sorry.” Your voice was tiny. You were surprised Eliot could even hear it over the blazing guns and explosions happening on the TV. 

“That’s ok, you just gotta tell me, sweetheart.” He was so kind and gentle. The knot got even tighter. You felt tears begin to prick at the edges of your eyes. “You tired? You want to go to bed?” He was trying to get you comfortable and you almost burst into tears right then and there. He was trying so hard, but he just had no idea. 

“It’s not that…” You paused, not sure what his reaction would be if you truly confessed, “I’m not…I mean, I can’t…It’s just…” You were trying to find the right words to make him understand, but you just couldn’t. Eliot looked more concerned than ever. “I’m ace!” You finally blurted out. It took him a little by surprise, but he was surprisingly…OK with it. 

“Ok.” He settled back down and started watching the movie again. Your anxiety began picking up and a million thoughts passed through your mind. 

“You’re…ok with it?” You asked, apprehensively. 

“Yeah, Parker came out like six months ago. Ya know, it does make a lot of sense now that I think about it,” he teased. You rolled your eyes but you felt the knot in your stomach loosen. The thoughts subsided. You curled up into his chest again. “Can I still kiss you?” He asked after a couple of minutes. 

“You don’t ever have to stop, if you don’t want to,” was your answer. 

After that, it was basically a non-issue.

* * *

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babe!” Eliot followed you into the apartment you shared. You locked yourself in the bathroom, and began to sob uncontrollably. This con had really hit close to home. A corrupt orphanage manager was selling the girls off into a sex trafficking ring. Eliot made it to the door and gently knocked. “Look, I know this was a hard one, but it’s different for you. Please.” His voice was strained. He was scared. You wiped your eyes and slowly unlocked the door. He took a step back and you carefully opened the door. You couldn’t look him in the eye. You didn’t want to leave the bathroom, so he came in. You were sitting with your back against the tub, facing the toilet. You were staring off into space, tears running freely down your face. He silently entered and sat down next to you, leaning his head down onto your shoulder. You just stared. 

After a while, he asked the question you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“Why this one?” You knew what he was asking, but you didn’t want to answer. You sniffled. 

“It was a long time ago, I thought I was OK now,” you croaked out, your voice damaged by the sobbing you had done earlier. Eliot wasn’t an idiot. He could put two and two together. He knew why you were crying. He knew why you were upset. But he also knew that it wouldn’t get better unless you talked about it. He gently asked you questions about your own sexual assault. It had happened when you were a kid, so it made sense you were ace. You always associated sex with the man who assaulted you. Whenever you seemed to get overwhelmed, Eliot would ask about something completely different; something he knew would get you mind off your trauma. You told the whole story from the bad beginning to the terrible end. Before you got there, however, the knot in your stomach took over. You threw up. You were incredibly embarrassed and you felt your face get hot. Eliot didn’t say anything. He got you a glass of water and cleaned you up. He didn’t ask you any more questions after that. He was wrong, though. You felt much worse after you had talked about it. But Eliot still tried to help. He got you a giant fuzzy blanket and wrapped you up in it. Then he picked you up and took you to the couch. He cuddled up to you and turned on your favorite movie before. After a while, he got up and ordered your favorite from the Chinese restaurant down the street. He spent the whole night by your side, making sure you were OK. It did make you feel a little better.


	58. Eliot is hurt

Eliot/Reader

\--

You were only minimally a part of Eliot’s professional life. He didn’t want you to get hurt, so he tried to avoid getting you involved whenever possible. But you had been married for two years, and slowly but surely, you had gotten him to introduce you to his friends at work.

You and Sophie hit it off immediately. It was like friends at first sight. You had so much in common it was almost scary. Next you met Nate. He and Sophie were basically a package deal. You didn’t get one without the other. The rings on their fingers made you realize they were married. Nate was more eccentric. He was…kind of an asshole if you were honest, but you were polite to him, as a stranger should be. Especially if they’re meeting their husband’s boss for the first time. After Nate, you met Alec and Parker. Parker seemed to bounce off the walls, but she was a fun person to talk to. Alec was probably the smartest person you’d ever met, however a lot of what he talked about was lost on you. You tended to stay close to Eliot whenever there were ‘office parties’ he would invite you to. 

* * *

You knew his job was dangerous. After you’d been dating for only four months, he was forced to divulge his true job, when he picked you up for your date bloody and bruised. You both decided to stay in that night. Any time he would get a text or a phone call from Nate about a job, your heart would catch just a little bit. You knew he was doing the right thing, but it didn’t stop you from worrying.

One afternoon, you got a call from a number you didn’t recognize. You simply sent the caller straight to voicemail. Surprisingly, they left a voicemail, and you listened to it almost immediately after it was finished. 

“Hey, so um, this is Nate, Eliot’s boss. I, uh, I need you to come down to the Brew Pub as soon as you can.” He sounded strange, like something was wrong. Your heart jumped into your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down. You were probably over reacting, right? He was fine, he just needed your skills for a con. You tried to ignore the little voice in the back of your head asking why he wouldn’t call himself if he needed your help. Until you were told otherwise, Eliot Spencer was fine. You grabbed your coat and told your boss that you had a family emergency. She was really understanding and let you go. 

The whole way to the Brew Pub you gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled hands. You tried to force yourself to think positive. You finally arrived and rushed into the restaurant. It was business as usual. A couple of customers were sitting at booths and tables scattered about, but for the most part, it seemed normal, like nothing was different. The waitress Amy saw you standing around looking confused and she helped you to the back room. You burst through the doors, expecting to see your husband standing there, talking to Alec or Nate. Instead, you saw a shell-shocked Parker being comforted by a crying Sophie. Nate looked like he was on his fifth bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Alec just looked lost. There was no sign of Eliot Spencer anywhere. 

“Where is he?” Your voice cracked. You knew where he was. Everyone turned and looked at you. They all seemed to freeze, except for Nate, who walked towards you. He looked you straight in the eye. You restated your question with your worried expression, and he answered it with his tired one. All of your fears were confirmed. You felt like everything just stopped suddenly. Everyone stopped moving and the world stopped spinning and everything was dead silent. Then your vision went blurry and you felt a lump in your throat threaten to exit. You didn’t know what to do. Your whole world was gone. You wanted to scream but you knew that no sound would come out. You wanted to cry, but you just couldn’t. You stood there, paralyzed until Sophie helped sit you down on the couch. Then it was like a switch went off. Tears were suddenly flowing freely and you sobbed into her shoulder. She held you close, but you felt her tears fall and dampen your hair. You didn’t care. Nothing would ever be the same again. After a while, you felt a hand rest gently on your back. 

“I’m so sorry.” It was Nate. He knew what this was doing to you. If he had ever lost Maggie or Sophie, he knew it would destroy him. You and the team all ate dinner together, silently. Afterwards, Sophie and Nate drove you home. You had to walk through the eatery to get to their car. It was the same set up as earlier, but now it all seemed wrong. Something was off, and you knew what it was. You almost started crying again. Sophie helped you up to your apartment. You thanked her, and then entered.   
The apartment was dark. No one was home. You flickered the lights on and just stared at the living room. At the couch where you had shared so many movies cuddled up to one another; then to the chair where Eliot would usually sit; then to the kitchen counter where Eliot would prepare all your meals. You slipped your coat off and headed to the bathroom. You took an incredibly long shower, hoping that if you just waited a couple more minutes, Eliot would walk through the door and join you. He didn’t. You toweled off and pulled open his shirt drawer. You chose your favorite, then clambered onto his side of the bed. It smelled like him. You remembered when you decided to move in together, how he had insisted that you both decide on the sheets the bed would wear. It took you both a while, but you eventually chose three designs that suited the both of you. You now twisted the sheets between your fingers. 

The next morning, you texted your boss. There had been a death in the family – you wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week. She said it was fine, and apologized for you loss. It didn’t make you feel better. You didn’t leave your bed for the next two days. 

You knew you’d eventually have to get up. You’d eventually have to move on. The world didn’t stop just because you wanted it to. But so much of your life had revolved around the love you had for your husband, now you weren’t sure what to do. After the second day of missed phone calls, Sophie (with the help of Parker) broke into your apartment and helped you get out of bed and eat something. It took a while, but eventually, you got back into a routine. But it never felt right. Eliot had taught you some self defense, but now you went to the gym regularly just to get your frustrations out. You took self defense classes, and got really good really quickly. Sophie noticed your sudden change in appearance – you were in better physical shape than you had been before. You were harder, too, emotionally and physically. You still talked to the rest of the team, but it felt different now. Your one connection to them was now gone. 

Finally, Sophie invited you over to the Brew Pub. But when you got there, instead of just Sophie, as it usually was, Nate was there as well. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked, directing your question at Sophie, but it was Nate who answered. 

“I want to offer you a job.” You stared back, caught off guard. “I want to help you get revenge on the man who killed Eliot. We might make a little money, while we’re at it, too.” 

“I have a job.” You dismissed his suggestion. You had a job that you were good at. You didn’t need another one. Sophie put her hand on yours. 

“It’ll help, I promise.” Her sincerity was what drove you to change your mind.

“Fine.” You called up your boss and quit your job right then and there. You were making impulsive decisions, which put Sophie on edge. She knew what that eventually led to, but she didn’t say anything. You and Nate shook hands before the three of you went to the back room where you gave them all the information you had gathered on the man who had killed Eliot. He was going to pay for what he did.


	59. Old Friends and New Lovers

Eliot/Reader

\--

You had known Hardison for what felt like all of your life. His Nana lived in the apartment next to yours and your home life was…less than stellar, so you spent a lot of time at his. Over the years, you two had grown close. You had different interests, but you were always interested in whatever new thing Hardison had found. But then something happened. Your life got too hard to handle.

“I need to get out of here, I’m suffocating.” 

“Give me a month. I’ll have the money by then, trust me,” Hardison had answered. But a month was too long, and you left without saying goodbye. It was a lot harder than you thought it would be. 

* * *

Out of the blue, you saw a line of code that looked familiar. Over the years, you had followed in your best friend’s footsteps and become a decent hacker. You recognized the code from something Hardison had showed you years ago. Something struck you and you decided to try and find out if it really was Hardison or not. You were staying in an apartment in downtown Portland, trying to make your way in the world when you finally found him. Leverage Inc. There was no real description of what it was, just that it was something. You sent a letter to the address. 

Surprisingly, you got a letter back. 

‘Glad to know you’re ok. Coffee?’ was all the letter said. It was signed with a loopy ‘AH’, something that hadn’t changed about Alec Hardison.

* * *

You sat uncomfortably in a booth. You weren’t drinking your coffee, just pushing the cup around waiting for it to get cold. You heard your name and looked up. 

“Hey,” you answered. Just seeing his face made your heart flutter a bit. After a brief period of awkward silence and staring, you both started talking about your own personal lives. What had happened to each of you once you’d lost touch. Alec was a little elusive, but you figured it was probably because you hadn’t seen him in at least 10 years. 

You got coffee together every week. He would update you on the restaurant he was building, you would update him on the coding job of the week you’d be hired to do. It went on like that for weeks until you finally got up the courage to ask him.

“So…What’s Leverage?” He almost choked. 

“Where did you – what do you mean?” 

“That’s how I found you, through Leverage Inc. So what is it?” You could tell he was stalling for time to come up a with a big lie (subtlety was not Alec’s strong suit, even now) but he surprised you.

“It’s the company me and a couple of friends started a couple years back.”  
“But what  _is_  it?” 

“We help people.” This answer did not satisfy you, but you decided to drop it for the time being. 

* * *

It took another couple of weeks for you to pry more information out of him, but before long, rather than updating you on the restaurant, he would tell you about the latest case he and his team had been working. Everything he talked about was illegal, but that wasn’t really a surprise. Even as a kid, Alec would do the right thing, whether it involved breaking the law or not. 

After a while, you decided you wanted to put faces to names.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” Alec trailed off. He knew how Nate would get if he brought a stranger back to the lair. He knew how Parker would react, too. 

“Come on. One thief to another.” This caught him off guard. 

“You’re a thief?” 

“Those coding projects? Totally illegal. Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were still in the game or not.” Alec shook his head, but laughed at your ability to cover the lie with enough truth so it was believable. 

“Fine, but they might not react well, so be prepared.” 

* * *

You walked with Hardison down the street a ways before he stopped in front of a brewery and opened the door. You gave him a surprised look before entering. He followed behind you, but then again took the lead so he could take you to a door marked “Employees Only.” You walked through. 

It was a nice place. There was a set of TVs displaying lots of information. There was a couch, and on it was sitting a man with crazy, wild hair, and a woman in the crook of his arm. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blonde streak flew past you. You jumped back, and Hardison kissed the blonde woman before introducing you. 

“…And this is Parker,” he said, which made sense. He had told you the whole tale of unrequited love between him and Parker over the years. She looked at you funny, tilted her head to the side, shrugged her shoulders and walked past you. 

“That’s Nate, Sophie, and Eliot’s around here somewhere…” Just as he was looking around for the illusive Eliot, a man walked in from a side door to what must have been the kitchen. He was wearing an apron and had his hair tied back with a bandana. He was… ruggedly handsome. “Ah, there he is.” Eliot gave Alec a look, waved to you, and then said something quietly to Nate before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

* * *

“It’s an…interesting group of friend’s you got there,” you said, teasing Alec. He laughed and nodded in agreement. You were both sharing a coffee out in the eating area of the Brew Pub. 

“They can be annoying as hell, but they grow on you.” 

“So Parker’s the thief and Eliot’s the chef?” You asked, trying to hide your sudden interest in what you believed to be the cutest member of his team. 

“Well, he’s only part time, he’s a hitter for us mostly. But Parker’s the thief, yeah.” You nodded, trying to hide the heat you felt rising to your face. “Wait a second, do you like him? Eliot I mean.” 

“What? No! I have literally never spoken to him in my life.”

“You totally do! Your tells haven’t changed!” He was laughing at you now, and you rolled your eyes. “You like Eliot, you think he’s cute.”

“Stop, Alec, I told you, I don’t know him – “  
“Don’t know who?” A gravely voice said from behind you. You didn’t need to turn around, you knew it was Eliot. His voice matched his demeanor. Alec smirked at you. “Nate wants a briefing soon, Hardison.” You finally turned. Eliot smiled and extended his hand. “Eliot Spencer.” You shook his hand and introduced yourself.

“Nate won’t mind for this one con, I’m sure,” Alec said, trying to justify you staying longer. Eliot agreed. You gave up and followed the boys to the back room once more. Eliot lagged behind until he was behind you.

“You can like me now you’ve said more than two words to me,” he leaned whispered in your ear. You shivered, but you smiled and shook your head at him.


	60. Cuddling

Eliot/Reader

\--

You shivered and adjusted your gloves before continuing to shovel the snow. It was still falling at a pretty rapid rate, but you knew that if you didn’t shovel until the morning, you’d have two times the work. You’re hat was pushed down as low as it would go before covering your eyes, and your scarf was wrapped just tight enough to try and keep your face mildly warm. After about three hours, you decided that enough was enough. You kicked your boots against the wall just outside the door and watched at immense amounts of snow dropped down. You stepped inside and took off your boots before continuing to strip. Off came your hat and scarf first, still covered in snow. You set it on the drying rack, which was conveniently set over the heating vent. Next was your coat. It was covered in cold, wet snow and it dripped onto your socks. You sighed in frustration, but finally took your snow pants off and slipped your feet into your slippers and made your way to your bedroom where you found another pair of completely dry socks, and some comfortable pajamas. You ran your fingers through your hair and walked into the living room, curled up on the couch with a thin blanket and watched some TV. 

A while later, you heard the door open and the same processes being done. Eliot was home. On a normal day, you would jump to greet him, but today, after shoveling snow for three hours, your body was sore and you were freezing. You didn’t want to move. You heard Eliot bustle around in the kitchen for a while before he entered the living room and saw you curled up. He cracked a smile. 

“What? It’s cold as hell out there,” you said, defending yourself. He said nothing and ducked back into the kitchen to check on whatever food he was undoubtedly cooking. When he came back, he had a bigger, fluffier blanket over one arm, and was carrying two steaming bowls in his hands. He set the bowls down, gently tossed the blanket onto the couch at your feet and left again, only to reemerge holding two steaming mugs. Yours, you knew, contained hot chocolate, his was straight black coffee. You sat up a little when he set the mugs down, but you didn’t get very far. He grabbed the blanket he had set down and wrapped you up in it, despite his own red nose betraying how cold he truly felt. You sat the rest of the way up and he joined you. 

“Figured since I couldn’t help with the shoveling, the least I could do was make you your favorite meal.” You curled up closer to him. 

* * *

After you’d both finished your meals and your respective drinks, Eliot turned on his favorite movie. You rolled your eyes. As expected it was another Western classic, but you decided to indulge him this time. You laid down with your head in his lap. He played with your hair, making you smile.

Somehow, you both ended up lying down on the couch. His arm laid protectively over your stomach, making sure you didn’t fall off, the blanket thrown over the both of you. He was like a space heater, which is what your cold body needed. You figured you were probably more like an icebox, but Eliot never said anything. The Western was boring, so you curled up close to him, your face against his chest. You could hear his heart beating. The rhythmic sound put you to sleep almost instantly. 

When the movie was over, Eliot realized you were already asleep. Carefully, so as not to wake you, he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down and covered you up before getting into bed himself. Instinctively you rolled closer to him, and he put his arms around you. Both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next day, you woke up first. He was still holding you, his warmth still radiating. You sighed quietly. You never wanted to leave this bed. Maybe snow wasn’t the  _worst_  thing in the world.


End file.
